Faerie Wars I: The Six Kingdoms (2013)
by DrewDrop26
Summary: Ancient Neopia was a place of monsters and fear. Faeries lived in small nomadic groups, because constantly moving meant the wraiths can't find you. In this world lived two young and powerful sisters. Their close relationship is torn apart one day, and their lives shortly thereafter when the faeries become grouped by type. Published in the Neopian Times in 2013. [COMPLETED]
1. Part One: The Sisters

**PART ONE**

* * *

Long ago, in very ancient times, the world of Neopia was a wild, dark, and dangerous place. The world was plagued by fearsome monsters, the most notable of which were the wraiths. The wraiths were the predominant reigning force in these times, and they were feared by all. These were the same wraiths released by Xandra during the fall of Faerieland.

Separate from the monsters and wraiths were creatures known as faeries and Neopets. Faeries had not yet been united under one queen, whom we refer to today as Fyora. "Faerieland" was a concept which did not exist; nor, in fact, was "Neopia." In those days, faeries lived in small nomadic groups called tribes, forced to forever wander so the wraiths would never know their location. Faeries and Neopets did not often interact, and there was much hostility and fear between them. Many faeries considered themselves above Neopets, who were still wild themselves, spending most of their time hiding from the wraiths.

Our story begins in these dark times, at the end of the days of the tribes. We find ourselves following the tale of two faerie sisters, Uriele and Nereza, who are as different as light and dark. While over time, the wraiths would be defeated, and faeries and Neopets would come to agreements and accept Neopia as the name of the world, the influence of Uriele and Nereza cannot be denied. For, together, they would shape the very foundation of the modern Neopia in which we live today. Indeed, without them, modern Neopia may very well have never existed at all.

—

"Ellie?"

The dark faerie searched the area around her, tightening her grip on her mother's hand.

"Mother, where is Ellie?" she asked worriedly.

"Nereza, please, do not squeeze so hard," her mother, Demelza, scolded lightly. "I shall lose a hand. You are far too old to hold it, in any case."

"But Mother! Ellie—"

She was silenced by the gentle smile her mother gave her. "Your sister is fine, dear," she told her. "We saw the fyora and she went to speak with her. You were not paying attention—daydreaming again, I assume?"

Nereza wrenched her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was not," she murmured grumpily. She then realized what had been said to her, and whirled on her mother. "Wait! Ellie is with the fyora?!" She looked anxiously around again. "Where are they?"

"For goodness' sake, Nezza!" cried her mother, exasperated.

At last Nereza spotted who she was looking for, and without a word she dashed away, ignoring her mother's calls for her to return. Her sister went around a corner, but Nereza caught up with her quickly.

"Ellie!"

The young light faerie turned at the sound of her special nickname. The first thing she noticed was that her sister's beautiful black and blue hair was in slight disarray.

"Nezzie, what's wrong?" she asked, sincerely concerned. "You look as if you have seen a ghost."

"You should not run off like that," Nereza scolded. "You know what can happen if you get lost."

The light faerie smiled. "I know. I am sorry. But I promise you, I was being safe."

"Nereza! Uriele!"

The sisters turned at the sound of their mother's voice. They glanced at each other as she approached, and both suppressed the urge to grin.

The adult air faerie stopped before them, hands on her hips, and sighed. "Nereza, you should know better than to run off like that," she chided, echoing her daughter's own words from a moment before.

"I know, Mother," said the dark faerie, bowing her head. "My sincerest apologies."

The air faerie rolled her eyes and turned to her other daughter. "Uri, did you speak with the fyora?"

"I did," Uriele replied seriously. "I needed to ask about a favor."

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "A favor?"

Uriele nodded. "Yes. Nezzie and I wanted to skip lessons tomorrow afternoon to practice on our own in the fields."

"Skip your lessons?" Her eyes flicked to her eldest daughter. "What is the meaning of this, Nereza?"

The dark faerie's face colored, and she looked away resolutely. How could she explain this to her mother? She didn't want to lie, as Uriele was doing—Nereza certainly did_ not _want to skip her lessons, nor did she think it wise for Uriele to do so, either—but what else could she do? She didn't want to get her sister in trouble, but she herself would also have to face their mother's wrath if she couldn't come up with something clever, quickly. "Morwen has told us that we are brilliant pupils and encourages us to study independently," she lied. "We are not _skipping_ our lessons, as Ellie put it."

Demelza did not seem entirely convinced, but she sighed and acquiesced. "Very well; just be mindful of your surroundings. It is dangerous for two young faeries to go alone in the fields."

"With _our_ magic?" scoffed Uriele, smirking. "Any monsters out there best _hope_ they do not meet us!"

Their mother smiled weakly. Nereza did not smile at all. Monsters were the very least of their worries.

—

"What did you actually ask of Morwen?" Nereza asked the next day as they left the village boundaries. It was a chilly, wet morning, and both faeries wore thick dark cloaks for warmth. As they moved further away from their tribe, the feeling of uneasiness simmering in Nereza's stomach grew.

"Oh, nothing," her sister replied. "I told her that we were going to be missing our lessons because Mother was taking us out to gather mushrooms and roots."

Nereza stopped in her tracks. "You lied to the fyora?" Her blood ran cold; what were they doing? This was wrong. They should still be in their village where it was safe.

Uriele shrugged nonchalantly. "You lied to Mother."

"That was completely different! I was trying to keep you from getting into trouble."

"And I thank you! Now come on, follow me. I want to show you something."

The dark faerie hesitated, but decided to go along, at least to ensure nothing bad happened to her sister. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were both walking into great danger, and when they were so far they couldn't see their village anymore, she felt certain she was right.

"Ellie, let's go back," she said earnestly. "It is not safe out here."

"Oh, stop it, Nezzie," replied the light faerie. "You are too afraid of your own shadow. We're fine, see?"

"For now," Nereza insisted. "There are rules for a reason. You cannot just break them whenever it suits your fancy."

Uriele waved her hand dismissively. "Rules were meant to be broken! Now stop being so negative. We are almost there anyway."

Though now more than a little vexed with her sister, Nereza kept her mouth shut and continued to follow behind. The fields took a downward turn, and eventually they came to a river. The fog lay heavier here, and the dampness hung on their cloaks. Uriele brought her hand out and created a shining ball of light, which broke through the mist and cleared their way. Nereza could see they were following the river into what appeared to be a forest. She suppressed the urge to turn and run back the way they had come, but she feared she would become lost, or that Uriele would befall some danger she could not face alone.

"How much farther?" she asked nervously. "We have been walking for at least an hour… do you not think our mother will become worried?"

"Mother is fine. Come, we have arrived at the Wood of Mystery."

Nereza's eyes widened. "The Wood of— You mean to tell me you have brought us to the edge of the Wood of Mystery during a fog and without any protection or help?!" She was as livid as she was afraid. There could be wraiths in the forest.

"Calm yourself, Nezzie, we're fine," said Uriele with a smile. She lifted her fingers and raised the ball of light floating above them. "Besides, I am the most powerful magician in the tribe. No harm could possibly befall us while I am here."

"Morwen is the most powerful magician in the tribe," Nereza corrected sharply. "That is why she is the fyora. The word 'fyora' means 'magician.' That is why she is our teacher, not the other way around. How dare you imply otherwise?"

Her sister scowled. "Very well," she said, "I apologize for not including you among the tribe's most powerful magical practitioners… I didn't realize you would be so sensitive about it."

"That is not in the least what I said at all!"

"Nezzie…" Uriele put her free hand on her sister's cloaked arm and looked into her eyes. "We should not be quarreling. And fret not, Sister. Before long, Morwen shall retire and name us both the new village fyoras. We shall share the title, like you have always wanted. Will that not be well?"

Nereza frowned. "Morwen shall not retire for many years," she replied flatly. "Possibly centuries."

Uriele sighed in exasperation, dropping her hand. "You don't understand anything, do you?" she exclaimed. "I have brought you here to show you something by which I feel you will be quite impressed. Yet you tarry our time with senseless worries and semantics. Do you not believe the longer we stay, the more 'danger' we are in? If that is so, let us remain no longer, and enter the wood so I may show you why it is we have come!"

The two faeries looked at each other for several moments, neither relenting until finally Nereza gave a heavy sigh. "Very well," she murmured. "But let us hurry. I wish to stay not a moment longer than we must."

"Oh, wonderful!" The light faerie beamed as she linked arms with her sister. Nereza had to fight to keep from protesting as they entered the darkness of the forest.

The sisters walked for a mere ten minutes more before arriving at their destination. The way was much clearer with Uriele's ball of light, and it was almost as if the fog was gone entirely. They entered a small meadow shrouded in mist, and Uriele closed both hands around her ball, then opened them to throw light into the air. It dashed the fog away and collected in the meadow's center, settling on the very thing Uriele wished to present to her sister.

"Behold," she said, smiling proudly as she held her arms out in gesture.

Nereza gasped. She did not know what to make of this horror.


	2. Part Two: A Secret In Stone

**PART TWO**

* * *

"Well… what do you think?"

What did she think? What did she _think_?

It was a Neopet; that she knew—she had seen them now and again, but she did not recognize this one's type. It had wings and a tail and claws, and looked almost reptilian; perhaps a dragon of some sort. But that was not the direct issue which concerned Nereza. The creature before her was unmoving, for it was entirely of stone.

"Is… is this a decoration?" she asked stupidly, too befuddled to think properly.

Uriele tapped her finger against her chin as if in thought. "Hmmm, I _suppose_ that that is a possibility. I hadn't quite determined what to do with it yet. Though I am not yet certain the effects of the spell are permanent."

The dark faerie looked at her sister, aghast. "You—" She pointed accusingly at the stone Neopet. This was beyond her comprehension. "_You_ did this?!"

"Indeed!" said Uriele proudly. "Do you see now why I did not fear danger? I am positive I could do it again."

Nereza gaped. "I… I thought it was… a stone carving you had found," she breathed. "I thought with dread that it was the sign of some great Neopet civilization we knew not of, or… or something else as terrible."

The light faerie laughed. "Ha! Don't be absurd, Nezzie. A Neopet civilization? The very idea!"

"Do not laugh; it could very well happen someday. But it is not so horrible as this!" She flung her arm out to indicate the statue. "You turned a living creature to stone—to living death!"

"It is only one Neopet," Uriele retorted, waving her hand dismissively. She was irritated and hurt that her sister was not happy or excited about this amazing new development in her skills as a magician. "There are plenty of others. Besides, I am not even entirely certain as to this one's type… I did not get around to asking it, unfortunately."

Nereza scowled. "Why is it in this position, Ellie?" she demanded. The mysterious Neopet was frozen in what appeared to be the beginning of a run. Only one foot touched the ground, and its wings were poised as if to take flight. Its stone eyes were undeniably fearful. "Why does it look as if it were running away from you?"

"It was. I was turning it to stone, for goodness' sake."

The dark faerie took a deep breath to calm her anger and to settle her extremely rattled nerves. Slowly, she asked, "What happened? Tell me everything."

—

Morwen the Fyora, a light faerie, looked up from the tome she had been working on. The bowl of rose petal water to her left had rippled. She frowned. That was strange. She put down her quill and took a closer look. At first, nothing happened. Then, after five moments had passed, it rippled again, and harder.

She ground her teeth. This was not supposed to happen today. Quickly, she returned to her tome and wrote:

_They are not yet due, and yet they come now. My apprentices are away in the woods, safe from harm. They shall meet sorrow upon their return… I believe the ultimate sorrow will now come to pass._

_I must away, and hide myself, for my life is precious. It is not yet my time. I must make haste, and hide this book, for if the enemy would find it, and obtain it for their own, all is lost._

_Perhaps—and I am reluctant in this idea—but perhaps I must hasten the ascension of my apprentices into fyora. Uriele is magically competent, but foolish, while her sister Nereza requires further training, yet is wise, albeit mayhap too cautious for proper leadership._

_The rose petals sway harder; I must go now, if I am to survive the attack._

The magician gathered her staff as well as the tome, and pulled back the rug on which she had sat. A magical earthen trapdoor, which looked no different from the rest of the ground, lay underneath. She waved her staff and the door's outlines began to glow with a dim light until the ground entirely faded away. There were narrow stairs beneath, and she hurried down them. Knocking her staff twice on the roof of the door, the rug flew back into place and the door solidified, hidden once more.

—

"I was wandering through these woods, which I happened upon one night during my solitary travels. Now, don't make that face, you knew I sneaked out some nights! In any event, I happened upon this clearing, and I found this bizarre creature all by itself. I had wanted to practice my magic in a place where I could be thoroughly undisturbed. You can imagine my surprise and frustration upon finding this Neopet.

"It seemed afraid of me, as Neopets rightfully are of faeries, and should certainly be of me. I decided then and there that I would practice on the creature. Oh, I spoke to it at first—making consolations and the sort, saying I was not going to hurt it and it had nothing to fear, though naturally I was lying. Of course, the thing did not understand me at all, as Neopets do not speak—"

"Neopets can speak," Nereza corrected, annoyed by her sister's supremacist attitude.

"They do not speak the faerie tongue, if what you say is true," Uriele continued, cross at the interruption. "Some crude Neopet speak, doubtless. Anyway, I knew I had to keep the thing still, or it would run away from me and I would be unable to perform more spells on it. I tried a basic Standstill spell, and was successful, but for only a moment. Before I could do anything more, it burst from my magic and turned to run. I thought as quickly as I could, and cast a spell, thinking of nothing but freezing the creature solid in its tracks. When the spell hit true, the thing stopped instantly. I approached it and found it had been turned entirely to stone. It has been two weeks now and the effects have not worn off. I'm not entirely certain how I did it, but I did."

The dark faerie was silent. She didn't know what to say.

"Perhaps…" she said finally, almost breathing her words. "Perhaps you can use it against wraiths?"

Uriele sighed. "Are those all you think about?" she demanded. "You know they do not exist. They are tales one tells children at night to make them behave."

Nereza shot her sister a dark glance. "I fear for you, Ellie. For are the wraiths not the very reason we cannot stay in one place? Have you not yourself seen the desolation of places where they have walked? You know not what you say."

"Just stop it!" Uriele cried. "You do not support me, ever! You have clearly no idea what a feat this is; what power I have. You are only thinking of how you would best use it! Wraiths, pah… I am just so certain. It is unfair that I shall have to share the title of fyora with you, when it so clearly is fit for only me!"

"How dare you," said Nereza, but she stopped short, for she was trembling. The fear, anger, and shock she had experienced, combined with this new pain wrought by her sister, was simply too much to handle. She turned away fiercely so her sister would not see the tears streaking down her face. Bitterly, she snapped, "You are selfish and cruel, with no regard for anyone but yourself. You will be an unfit leader. You will lead our tribe to ruin."

A few moments passed where neither faerie said a word. Nereza, with her back to her sister, began to suddenly fear for her own safety, despite herself.

"…Ellie?"

She turned slowly. Uriele was looking downcast, her hair casting her face in shadow. She was breathing heavily.

"Ellie… forgive me. Please, may we go home?"

The light faerie's jaw clenched, and she turned her head away. Nereza saw her tighten her fists.

Frightened, she cried loudly, "Ellie!"

Almost instantly, as if broken from a spell, Uriele's demeanor changed. She looked at her sister, her eyes ringed with terror, and then ran to her. Nereza accepted the embrace warmly, though it felt more like a desperate clutching than an embrace.

Meanwhile, Uriele's eyes remained wide, and she was shaking noticeably. She had been so blinded by her anger, she had contemplated attacking her sister. She had thought, _I'll turn her to stone. She can rot here with this Neopet for the rest of eternity._ But upon regaining her senses, she had become afraid of herself.

_I'll never do that. I can never do that._

"Please, Ellie," murmured her sister, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Let us return home and forget all this."

Uriele nodded, and they let go of each other. She called her ball of light back to her, and, taking her sister's hand, hurried as quickly as she could out of the forest.

—

They knew something had happened before they'd even got there.

The two sisters were completely devoid of expression as they took in the scene. Some of the tents were still burning. There were several injured faeries strewn about the ground, which was scorched in places, and more still sitting up or by the wounded. The entire village was smoking.

"Fire faeries," Nereza whispered when she could breathe again.

Their tribe, which was made up of a grand total of twenty-one faeries, consisted of fourteen air faeries, two light faeries, four earth faeries, and one dark faerie. Just as faeries and Neopets were not friendly toward each other, faerie tribes in general kept to themselves. It was not uncommon to have enemies.

As it were, the Morwena Tribe, so named after their fyora, had a particularly poor relationship with most fire, dark, and earth tribes, despite having earth and dark faeries of their own. The insignia of one of their great enemies, the Faratha Tribe, was burned on the ground in the center of all the tents; the center of the village. Nearly everyone was hurt.

"Where is Morwen?" asked Uriele quietly, noticing the absence of their fyora. "Why is she not helping our people?"

Uriele remained rooted to the spot, but Nereza walked forward into the wreckage. "Mother?" she called. "Mother!"

An air faerie, called Annalys, was leaning against a tent post. She had scratches and burn marks on her arms but nothing very serious. She had been lucky. She approached Nereza, walking with a small limp.

"Nezza, Uri," she said, "where have you been? Thank goodness you were not here…"

"Annalys." Nereza said the name almost bewilderingly. "Annalys… where is our mother? I do not see her among the… injured…"

At this, Annalys, who had not yet cried, broke down into tears. She fell against Nereza, who held her gently, worry seizing her chest.

"Oh, Nezza. We were so lucky. It could have been so much worse. Almost everyone should be just fine."

"Annalys, please," urged Nereza. "My mother."

The air faerie sobbed. "Demelza… your mother… she died."


	3. Part Three: Loss And Grief

**PART THREE**

* * *

Demelza's death was a tragedy the Morwena tribe had not seen in a long time. Because the tribe was very small and close, it affected all of them on a deep and personal level. A service was held, and Demelza's physical form was released as air, per the custom for Air Faeries. Many of the faeries wept openly, including Nereza. Uriele's eyes remained dry.

Unlike her sister, Nereza had not noticed the fyora was gone until after she had finally reappeared. She waited patiently until all the wounded had been tended to, and then followed Morwen into her tent to ask what the meaning of her absence was.

"It was necessary, my child," Morwen had answered. "For if I had been unprotected, and had shared your mother's fate, where would our people be now?"

This had not sat well with the dark faerie. "Uriele and I would have replaced you, naturally," she'd retorted. "And we would be helping the wounded like we have been already. Why had you not warded the place, seeing as you so clearly foresaw this event? Did you also foresee my mother's death? Is this why you so easily let us leave the village for the afternoon?"

Morwen's eyes narrowed. "Your claims insult me. I have kept our tribe's most prized possessions safe. Of course I foresaw the attack, and of course I knew your mother would be lost in it. Do you think you can truly become fyora without experiencing any sorrow? This world is dangerous, and full of ill will. The fact that we live at all is nearly a miracle; save, as you know, a fyora's magic against wraiths. That is why tribes have fyoras. It is what keeps us hidden. Neither you nor your sister possesses this ability yet, nor are you ready to. Would you have the lives of the entire tribe drained away by our very greatest Enemy, or would you suffer a personal loss now only to save many others in the future?"

"That is unacceptable," Nereza snapped. "Why do Ellie and I not know this skill? Why have you not taught it to us?"

"How could two very naïve girls possibly know how to ward against wraiths? Uriele is more than capable magically, but she cannot truly wield such an immense power and responsibility. She has not faced any hardship. She, indeed, does not even believe in the wraiths, which is a denial brought on by her immaturity and reluctance to understand or face true evils."

Nereza scowled, displeased with the fyora's accusations against her sister. "And what of I?" she demanded.

"You?" Morwen laughed. "You are entirely capable of understanding evil and darkness, for you were born of it. It is who you are."

At this, the dark faerie's blood turned to ice. The hair on the back of her neck stood up on end. Coolly, she asked, "What are you implying?"'

"You are a dark faerie," said Morwen matter-of-factly. "Surely you know your kind is inclined toward evil. It is fortunate that you have no such aspirations. Your love of the law is proof of that. However, it is also proof of the very reason why you have not yet been made fyora: you are not a leader."

Nereza scoffed. "And Ellie is?"

Morwen nodded. "She would be a benevolent and strong leader for our tribe."

"Ellie is incredibly arrogant. Ultimate power would suit her poorly."

"She is young. Leadership and age will humble her. Leaders make rules, and others follow, Nereza; you are a follower. You are too wary, but you are wise, and very good at organizing and strategizing. That is why I am pairing you and your sister together. You complete each other. Apart, you are both inadequate. Together, you would be indestructible."

Nereza let this sink in for a moment. She was livid, but was more or less calm. She evaluated the situation rationally. While it made sense, Morwen's methods were questionable to say the least. And there was still something she had not answered: "Did you, or did you not, foresee our mother's fate?"

The fyora sighed. "Yes… and no. I knew she would die at some point, but I did not know when or how. I merely suspected it this time. But do not make the mistake of thinking it was planned. There was no way I could have saved her without putting myself, or the two of you, or the whole of the tribe, in danger. Believe me, I am very sorry things had to happen the way they did."

Dissatisfied, but fully aware that the conversation could go no further, Nereza had excused herself and gone to find her sister.

Almost immediately afterward, the Morwenians patched up their tents, packed what little they had up, and departed for a new temporary home. The Wood of Mystery was left behind, with Uriele's secret sealed inside.

—

A year passed. The tribe had moved around several more times, as was usual. Much had changed since the loss of the girls' mother, and grief took both sisters differently.

Nereza mourned deeply. For half the year she allowed herself to cry, feel angry, and desperately miss her mother. Yet her sorrow did not consume her. She took out time that she felt was necessary for her personal healing, and then returned to her tasks and studies. She had reached the conclusion that justice must be had, and her mother must be avenged. The tribe of fire faeries that had taken her mother must suffer the same loss. Warring faerie tribes fought plenty, and injuries were common occurrences, but not often did the loss of life occur. The case of her mother would not go unforgotten, and, indeed, would be gifted back upon the ones responsible.

Revenge was not a concept Nereza took to lightly. She did not believe in it when borne out of blind anger. In fact, she preferred peace and order above all else, and if the situation allowed such things, she felt it was the best path to take. However, this was an instance in which she could calmly deduce that revenge was necessary. An innocent faerie had lost her life, and those who had done it would be punished. It was as simple as that.

This was not so for Uriele. The light faerie never once shed a tear; never fell prey to the heated emotion that so often comes from grief. She did not attend the mourning service for her mother, for, in her mind, her mother had never existed. There had never been such a faerie as Demelza. What was the use of mourning something that never was?

Instead, Uriele threw herself wholeheartedly into her magical pursuits. She became increasingly absent from the village, inciting fear and worry in her elder sister. Uriele spent a large portion of her time with the fyora, learning deep and mysterious magic, studying legends and stories, practicing new spells, and perfecting ones she knew.

She also had a rare talent: the ability to invent new spells. This was a secret she kept close to her heart and from the fyora, and from her sister as well; though, she was not aware, Nereza had reasoned it out for herself after being shown her sister's stone Neopet. Nereza knew that was not a spell anyone had performed before, and that Uriele had only managed it because she had created it.

Nereza was angered by Uriele's refusal to mourn, accusing her of insulting their mother's memory.

"This is not good for you, Ellie," she told her. "Holding it all inside… The sorrow will not simply leave on its own. You will collapse all at once."

"I do not understand what it is you believe I am holding inside," Uriele replied coolly. "There is no sorrow within me. I am quite fine. Please, leave me."

Eventually Nereza gave up trying, though she loathed the thought of her sister rotting inside. The two sisters grew distant, despite the elder sister's attempts to keep their ties close. Any suggestion to spend time together was rejected, and Nereza could feel Uriele pulling away from her. It reached a point where Uriele began almost living in the fyora's tent, and the only times Nereza saw her was during her own lessons. She would ask Morwen, "Where has Ellie got to?" but she would get only a noncommittal response. The distance saddened Nereza greatly.

One day, as she was presenting to Morwen yet again her determination to avenge her mother, Uriele stepped into the tent. The light faerie looked at her sister as if she were a stranger.

"Your plan for 'justice,' as you call it, is unneeded," said Uriele. "There was no crime done; an air faerie's life was lost, but these things happen. Your insistence on dwelling upon this matter is as juvenile as it is absurd."

"Ellie—!"

"We have had no such attacks since then, and in fact we recently won a battle against an earth faerie tribe that was being especially… difficult, during trading. Surely you know this."

"I do, but it need not have become violent," insisted the dark faerie. "There are ways to go about these things peaceably. In the end, we are all faeries, and we ought to band together. As a force we might be able to put an end to the terror of the wraiths!"

Uriele threw up her hands. "You and those wretched _wraiths_! Must you insist on going on about them?!"

At that, the fyora stepped in. "Uriele, enough. Nereza's desire for revenge is not one I agree with, but she has her reasons for feeling that way. After the unfortunate loss of your mother, you have become an entirely different person. This is unacceptable. How can I name you fyora when you refuse to believe something as simple as your mother's passing? How can I possibly have you lead our tribe when you deny the _very reason _we faeries are nomadic?"

Uriele said nothing. Nereza held her breath.

"You have been apart from your sister for too long," Morwen stated, "and it is not well for either of you. At this rate, neither of you will become the fyora. You are very powerful practitioners indeed, and have studied long and hard, but Nereza cannot be fyora on her own without you, and you have proven nothing to me in the past year that would persuade me that you are capable of the job, either."

Nereza recalled the conversation she and the fyora had had a year ago, and she shuddered. Uriele, too, was stunned. Did Morwen favor her over Nereza? This was the first she had ever heard of something like this.

"If it weren't for the intensive training I have given you," the older light faerie went on, "or the secrets I have divulged, I would dismiss you both as my apprentices and find a new one. It is time you grew up, Uriele, and faced reality. Do not make me believe I have wasted my time."

The inside of the tent was so silent one could have heard a pin drop. As it were, Uriele's pale face was burning intensely with shame. Nereza could think of nothing to say.

The fyora waved her staff at them. "Get out of my sight," she said. "Both of you."


	4. Part Four: They Came For Flame

**PART FOUR**

* * *

That night, neither sister could sleep. Uriele had returned to their tent, feeling foolish for her behavior over the past year. She glanced over at her sister, then lowered her lids. "I'm sorry, Nezzie," she murmured.

Nereza's heart lifted at the sound of her special name. She reached her arm out to touch her sister's shoulder. "You and I are all each other has," she said. "When we lost Mother… I lost you, too. It has been difficult, and lonely."

"I understand. I have been a fool." She looked up at her sister cautiously. "Do you really mean to avenge Mother? Is that truly necessary?"

The dark faerie thought about it for a moment, then sighed deeply. "I have lost sleep over thinking," she answered. "You must realize this is not a plan born out of anger. I merely seek justice."

"Justice without mercy is no justice at all," countered Uriele. "It is evil."

Nereza glanced at her sister. Their eyes met. "What do you suggest, then?" she asked.

"We journey to their location. We find them and explain that we come in peace and wish them no harm. We let them know that they caused great suffering to us, and we demand recompense. Some form of sacrifice—anything will do; food, most likely. Perhaps an exchange of knowledge."

"Ellie… you cannot believe that that will work—"

"It can, for it must," Uriele said sharply. "We will be sensible about this."

"Food and knowledge cannot replace our mother."

"Neither can the loss of one of theirs."

The sisters stared at each other, until finally Nereza relented. "Very well. You are right. That is fair."

"Good. We shall take our leave in the morning."

Nereza blinked. "In the morning? But we know not where they are."

"Oh, I have long known where they are," the light faerie replied, settling herself into her blankets. "They have been following us. They are not five days' walk away."

Her sister was stunned, and also a little offended. Why had Uriele been privy to this information, but not she? Had Morwen not found her suitable for it? Were her ideas of revenge worth withholding information that might spur her into action? She did not ask her sister, for she could not help but feel that such was indeed the case. This angered her, and she felt once again that Morwen did not respect her as she respected Uriele.

"Will the fyora approve of our quest?" she asked darkly.

Uriele shrugged. "She'll have to. We are going, and that is that." She let out a yawn, snuggling deeper into her blankets. "Sleep well, Nezzie. We will need our strength."

Still a little bewildered, Nereza nevertheless lay back onto her blankets and pulled them over herself. Exhaustion fell over her like a curtain, and without another thought she succumbed to the darkness.

—

_Nearby, at the Faratha Tribe_

The night was still. So still, in fact, that it made the faeries' skins crawl. They lit fires all round and huddled close, hoping to chase away the darkness and bring themselves comfort. For once, the dancing flames did not offer them comfort, but instead inspired more fear; for the shadows they cast upon the ground, on the tents, and on each faerie's face skipped and twirled with an almost sinister flair. The shadows did things they had never done before: they took faces that twisted into silent laughs.

The faeries wondered if they were all imagining it, and the fyora, Farath, demanded the fires be extinguished at once. She had felt the evil behind the shadows, and it frightened her more than she would care to admit.

"Quickly, while we still can," she declared. "We must go now and flee this place. Take only what is absolutely necessary. Keep your inner fire about you, but light none."

As the seventeen tribe members flitted about as speedily as they could, the fyora stared into the darkness beyond the tribe's northern edge, her heart pounding wildly. She saw what she was looking for—the farthest trees she could see were beginning to wilt. Goosebumps bloomed across her arms and the back of her neck. They had time yet, but there was no way to tell how much.

"Hurry," she told everyone as she passed them, heading into her own tent. She grabbed a few choice items she knew they could not leave behind, and put them in a bag which she then hung over her shoulder. She was about to leave when the first scream broke through the night air.

—

Morwen had not been pleased to hear of her apprentices' quest, but had approved of the obvious maturation the girls had obtained during the night. "There may be hope for you two yet," she had said, and then sent them on their way.

They had left just before dawn, and carried little. Morwen had cast a protection spell on them to hide them from wraiths, but warned it would not last forever, so they should do their best to make haste. Uriele had not voiced her opinion regarding the wraiths, though it had not changed, and she still felt they were only scary tales. Nereza's only explanation for her sister's insistence on the nonexistence of the wraiths was that she was so frightened by the prospect of their reality, she could only cope by pretending they were not real. Such an explanation would also cover Uriele's lack of mourning for their mother.

During the first part of their journey, Uriele enlightened Nereza on her knowledge of the whereabouts of the Faratha tribe. "We have been watching them ever since the attack," she admitted matter-of-factly. "Or, at least, Morwen was. She didn't tell me until about a month or two ago. She was able to tap into the energy of their insignia and use it to scry for them. She showed me where they were. They're northwest of us, obviously, since we had been traveling southeast."

"Why have they been following us?" Nereza demanded.

Uriele shrugged. "Who can say? They are our enemies. It would make sense for them to watch us as we watch them."

Nereza did not know what to make of that, so she said nothing.

They were making good time, rarely stopping and walking quickly. They came on the second day upon a very wide river, which they had passed before, and they flew over it. Upon touching ground again on the other side, Nereza wondered aloud at the purpose of their wings.

"Do you ever wonder why we have them? We live on the ground."

"Have you never learned the stories, dear sister?" Uriele asked, grinning. "The ancient faeries made their home among the clouds. They discovered the ground below one day, and decided to explore. Some stayed, and fell in love with different parts of the land, separating over time into types. The air faeries kept to the clouds, while the earth faeries made their homes in forest dens, fire faeries in the heart of volcanoes and deserts, the light faeries in the open and sunny fields, the dark faeries in caves and under the ground, and the water faeries in the oceans."

"I am still not wholly convinced water faeries are truly faeries," said Nereza, only half serious. "Why, then, have they lost their wings, if your charming little story is true?"

Uriele laughed. "Silly sister. What need has one for wings when the sea brings one to the top, rather than the bottom? No, they have their tails instead, so they can fly through their own upside-down sky."

Nereza smiled. Her sister took more stock in old faerie tales than she did, but she enjoyed hearing them. "And what did these faeries look like," she asked, "before they separated into types?"

"Oh, that was always my favorite part." Uriele looked dreamily up at the clouds. "They were purple! So very pretty, I imagine…"

"Purple?" Nereza raised an eyebrow. "Like a dark faerie?"

Uriele shook her head. "No, more like a pinkish purple. Very soft… very regal."

The dark faerie glanced at her sister, who was smiling thoughtfully. Suddenly Nereza became uncomfortable, though she couldn't for the life of her say why. "And why did the faeries rejoin?" she inquired, feigning a tone of disinterest. "Into tribes, and such? I am betting it was because—"

"Yes," her sister interrupted, a shadow cast over her eyes. "Yes… because the wraiths came. They drained the land of its life and turned faeries grey and Neopets to stone."

Nereza eyed her sister sharply. _Turned to stone…?_

"The faeries were forced to live in small groups," Uriele continued, failing to notice her sister's glance. "Always on the move, on the run. The six faerie types had mingled freely, but now they stayed with their tribe, suspicious of everyone and everything else." She paused. "Anyway… they're gone now, if they ever existed at all."

"Ellie…" began Nereza, but she stopped. It was clear that Uriele was finished talking.

The rest of the journey was fairly uneventful, but the same could not be said for their arrival. The tribe's tents had come into view on the horizon when the sisters came across the greyed grass and wilted flora. They froze at the sight.

"It isn't moving," the dark faerie pointed out breathlessly, after several moments of silence. "So… we can deduce that they're no longer… here…"

Uriele looked as if she might faint.

"Ellie, we have to hurry. There might be someone left here who will need our help."

The light faerie nodded, though her eyes were wide with fear.

The sisters ran the rest of the way, and found all the tents eerily intact. The place looked undisturbed, except that there was no grass at all here anymore. The ground looked scorched as if from fire, though Nereza knew that was not the case.

"Hello?" she called out. "Is anyone here?"

Through the thin, low-lying fog, she could see several dark shapes. As she and Uriele approached, the shapes became more clearly defined. Uriele muttered a spell under her breath and made a sweeping gesture with her arms, causing the fog to dissipate. She gasped at what she saw and stopped in her tracks.

"Who are you?" asked one of the faeries.

"We are Nereza and Uriele from the Morwena tribe," answered Nereza. "We are not here to harm you—"

"Certainly not. What more harm can be done?"

Nereza moved forward into the crowd of faeries. Uriele remained rooted to the spot. These were fire faeries no longer; their flaming wings had been extinguished, and all that was left were pitiful, weeping remains. The red and orange color had been drained from their hair and eyes.

"Grey faeries," she whispered to herself. Never before had she seen one. She had almost thought they weren't real.

"What has happened here?" Nereza asked, though she knew perfectly well. "Why did you not escape?"

The grey faerie who had spoken for her tribe sighed. "We were not quick enough," she admitted. "They came upon us with only a few moments' warning." Her eyes grew dark. "We tried to fight them off, but… we did not expect it. Our wings greyed and fell apart, and we are what you see now."

Nereza swallowed hard. "How… how did they do it?"

Sighs flew throughout the tribe. The sound made Uriele's prickle. She wanted to shut her ears, to close her eyes and believe none of this was real… but she couldn't move.

The faerie leader looked directly into Nereza's eyes, and frowned. "Your eyes are red," she said, somewhat stunned. "Like the lining of your wings. Don't dark faeries generally have purple eyes? And purple hair? Yours is black and blue."

Nereza scowled. "I do not see how my appearance is suddenly important at a time like this," she said crossly.

"Pardon me," she said, "it's just that you look almost like…" She paused, and then shook her head. "Never mind."

"How did the wraiths turn you grey?" the dark faerie demanded.

The grey faerie smiled lopsidedly. It looked frighteningly out of place.

"Why… they erased our names."


	5. Part Five: Story-Keeper, Name-Giver

**PART FIVE**

* * *

_The girls have been gone four days now,_ Morwen wrote. _They should be returning within the next three or four. My scrying bowl has, since the eve of their departure, been muddied and unclear when peering on the enemy tribe; my best conclusion is that great evil took that place, and my apprentices walked through a wretched land. Of course, no harm shall befall them, if what I have done is as I expected._

_There is still much to study of them, yet the time is failing. This entry has been prompted by the utmost importance: I have found a prophecy regarding my girls. Near us to the west is a dense forest labyrinth, and I have discovered something most marvelous about the location: it is the home of the Oracles. Many have taken on the form of Neopet, which disgusts me, but nevertheless, I was able to successfully project myself into the labyrinth and capture one. It was in the form of a being of light, the natural state of Oracles, and I procured of it a most thrilling prophecy, which I shall proceed to record in detail._

_It appears that the days of the tribes are numbered._

—

"Erased your names?"

The grey faerie nodded. "They are vanished; they have never been," she explained. "None of us remembers any of our names… and it appears the power of a faerie is tied to her name, as the old stories say."

Nereza frowned. "Haven't there been grey faeries with names?" she questioned. "As according to 'the old stories'?"

The faerie looked over Nereza's shoulder at Uriele. "The light faerie is a story-keeper, is she not? Ask her."

"A story-keeper…?"

Uriele's frozen shock was rattled when the attention was drawn to her. She rubbed her arms, and dared to step forward till she stood beside her sister. The sight of the grey faeries so close was unnerving.

"What's all this, Ellie?" her sister asked.

Uriele licked her lips nervously. "Well," she began, "the stories say there are many ways to make a faerie grey. One can lose one's wings and become grey, but still retain one's name. The loss of one's name also makes one grey. A lengthy period of great sorrow can do this as well, as can curses. Whatever way one is turned grey, the only cure is to give the faerie a new name. But that is not as easy as it sounds."

"Certainly not," agreed the grey faerie. "A faerie is born with her name. It takes great power to bestow a new one."

"Can I not just give you one?" Nereza wondered.

"It is not that simple," answered Uriele. "For faeries, anyway."

Nereza did not accept that answer. "Well, I am going to try anyway," she declared. "We must do all we can to help."

Uriele looked at her, puzzled. Was not the purpose of coming here to assert 'justice'? Why would Nereza want to help these faeries when leaving them was more than enough punishment for what they did? Still, she stayed silent. She could ask later.

Nereza took the grey faerie's hand in her own, and closed her eyes. All of a sudden, she felt an empty blackness. At the same time, without understanding how, she knew exactly what to do. Something was stirring within her. It was as if she had known this all her life; as if the gift of naming was part of her very being.

She searched through the blackness that was the grey faerie's spirit, and, finding nothing, she settled herself in the center of it. Something bloomed within her, and she felt it cover her entire self, until it was almost overwhelming. Channeling the power into her hands as if she'd done this hundreds of times, she felt it seep into the grey faerie, and the blackness began to glow. Something appeared on her tongue, hot and bright like an ember, and she said it:

_"Nuria."_

Uriele and the other grey faeries had been watching intently as Nereza and the grey faerie whose hand she held began to glow with a bright pink light. Nereza said a word, and the grey faerie burst into flame. The other grey faeries gasped, and began to rush to their leader's side in an attempt to rescue her, but Uriele held up a hand.

"Wait," she said. "Look!"

They did, and saw that the fire engulfing their leader was reaching out into what looked like long wings. The rest of the fire disappeared inside the faerie, who was no longer grey, though not as she was before, either. She had dark skin and her wings were made entirely of fire.

Nuria and Nereza opened their eyes.

"Thank you, Nereza," said Nuria. There was a power behind her voice that seemed to make the very air tremble. "I know not of your methods, but you have rescued me from a woeful future. I would be honored if you might do the same for the rest of my tribe, and in return, we shall ally ourselves with you."

Nereza was a little stunned. "You are most welcome," she said. "And I thank you… the Morwena tribe will appreciate friends—"

"You are mistaken. We will have nothing to do with the tribe run by Morwen the light faerie. We shall ally ourselves with you and you alone."

"We are to replace Morwen as fyora," Uriele put in suddenly. "The both of us. We do not know when that is, however."

Nuria bowed her head to Uriele. "Then when that time comes, we shall befriend your tribe. Until then, it shall be only to Nereza."

Uriele was insulted, and put her fists on her hips. "I will have you know that I am more powerful a magical practitioner than my sister. If she can give back names, then so can I."

She stormed over to another one of the grey faeries and snatched up her hand. The faerie looked at her nervously. Uriele closed her eyes and focused.

Nereza watched, somewhat sheepishly. She almost wished Uriele would fail, so she would have a wondrous ability which her sister would not, but cast away the thought. She would not be envious or spiteful of Uriele. That was unthinkable.

"Ember," said Uriele, and the faerie, like Nuria, was swallowed by fire, which she then absorbed. She was every bit a normal fire faerie, but she was a fire faerie nonetheless.

Despite herself, Nereza felt her stomach sink in bitter disappointment.

"Ha!" The light faerie twirled to face Nuria, smirking triumphantly. "See?"

—

After all the grey faeries had been healed, Nereza and Uriele were exhausted. They were given beds for the night, and the newly-made Nuria tribe offered them provisions for their journey the next day. Nuria decided to move her tribe far away from this cursed spot, and gave the sisters a small glass sphere with a living flame inside.

"Should you ever have need for us," she said, "merely break this sphere, and we shall come. We are heading into the deserts now. These plains are far too temperate for us, and we have no reason to follow your tribe any longer."

On the travel home, Nereza and Uriele discussed their newfound power. Uriele referred again to old stories, which reminded her sister of what Nuria had called her—a story-keeper.

"What did she mean by that?" Nereza asked.

"I don't know how she knew," replied Uriele, "but Morwen told me once that I have a gift for stories. Namely, I can record them in my mind and never forget them, without ever having to write them down. I do not know if it is a magical gift or simply mundane, but that is all it is."

"So what stories do you have regarding name-giving?"

The light faerie shrugged. "I know little about it, save that the ancient faeries were rumored to have the ability. It may have only been one of them, but I don't actually know. Morwen has not been generous in talk of the ancients, and I cannot decide whether it is because she is withholding information or if she simply knows nothing more."

"Somehow I have a feeling it is the former," Nereza murmured.

There was a period of silence, after which Uriele asked, "Why did we help them? Wasn't the goal to punish them? 'Justice' and all that?"

Nereza stared at her. "You jest, surely. They had been turned grey by wraiths. We had to help them."

"But they're our enemy tribe. Morwen won't approve, you know."

"I don't care if Morwen disapproves," said Nereza hotly. "It was the right thing to do. That is all there is to it."

They arrived home days later to welcoming arms and an oddly impatient fyora. Morwen ushered them away from the crowd and into the tent where she demanded they tell all. Nereza was inclined to say little, but Uriele babbled away, bragging about their accomplishment. One thing she did omit, much to Nereza's surprise, was Nuria's gifting of the sphere to them.

"I see," Morwen said. "Well, while I do not understand your insistence on saving our enemy tribe, Nereza, I am intrigued by this new power you two have discovered."

The dark faerie scowled. Why was _she_ getting blamed? Uriele had been just as eager to help them, after the initial buzz of arrogance had worn off.

"Meanwhile, certain events have prompted me to initiate you two as fyora as soon as possible."

This caught them both by surprise. "What do you mean?" asked Uriele. "Is something happening? Are you all right?"

"I am perfectly fine," replied the fyora. "I will explain it all in good time. I will still be here for guidance if you need it after you have taken on the position. Now, we cannot afford to waste any more time. Get yourselves ready; I shall assemble the tribe."

_"Now?"_ the sisters exclaimed.

"Yes, now. Be outside within ten minutes." Without another word, she left the tent.

Uriele and Nereza looked at each other in amazement. Then they smiled. "It's about time," said Uriele with a laugh. "Let's go change into less-traveled clothing."

—

"I have some news," Morwen announced. The tribe waited with anticipation; if the fyora had gathered them all, it must be something important. "The time has come at last for me to retire from my post as your fyora."

Fervent, excited chatter broke out. Only Uriele and Nereza remained silent. Nereza felt her sister's hand slide into hers, and she looked at her curiously. The light faerie gave her a reassuring smile, and Nereza felt herself smile back. They squeezed each other's hands. This was it. They were finally going to become the fyora together.

"As you all know, my lovely apprentices, Uriele and Nereza, daughters of the late Demelza, have been training with me for this position for most of their lives. The honored role of fyora is one that belongs to those who are wise, are just, are merciful, and are powerful. The fyora is the protector of the tribe and its secrets, is the leader of the tribe, and gives the tribe its name. As of this moment, we are no longer the Morwena tribe."

Nereza could feel her sister trembling with excitement, and was rather giddy herself. It had been decided long ago that the new tribe name would be a mixture of hers and Uriele's; after a long list of possible names and a subsequent debate, they had settled on Ureza.

"I understand any confusion that this may be sooner than expected," Morwen continued. "Believe me, it is. It is traditional for the fyora to have her apprentice succeed her only in the event that she is no longer able to fulfill her duties. However, there is a pressing need for the change, and while I may not tell you why, it is my dearest wish that you all will accept this choice as much as I have."

A buzz of confusion ran through the crowd. What was Morwen talking about? A pressing need? Was there something that was about to happen? Were they in any danger? Was Morwen ill?

_All as well,_ Nereza thought. _Morwen is no longer fit for the role. Ellie and I shall do a far better job._

"And so," exclaimed the fyora, "without any further ado, I relinquish my position to my successor, and take back my name from the tribe. Please pay your respects to your new fyora, as honored members of the Uriela tribe!"


	6. Part Six: The Fyora

**PART SIX**

* * *

Everyone was silent, for just a moment. When the shock wore off, the whispers started up: "Did she say what I think she said?" "I would have assumed they would mix the girls' names…" "What does she mean, 'Uriela'? What about Nezza?" "Well, I can't imagine that's right… Uri can't lead on her own, can she?" "If I had had to pick _one,_ I certainly would not have chosen Uri over Nezza." "Oh, poor Nezza…"

The sisters glanced at each other in confusion. Nereza's face was burning with humiliation.

"I'm sure she has made a mistake," Uriele whispered in her sister's ear, though the shake in her voice betrayed her uncertainty.

"Uriele," said Morwen loudly. "Please come forward."

The light faerie gulped, but did as she was told. "Morwen," she said quietly, "I think there's been a mistake…"

"Many blessings to our new fyora, Uriele, daughter of Demelza!" cried Morwen, ignoring Uriele completely. "May she lead us safely through these dark days." She held out her staff to Uriele, who hesitantly accepted it.

Nereza could not keep still any longer. She stepped forward. "What is the meaning of this, Morwen?!" she demanded. "You said Ellie and I would be fyora together!"

"Things have changed, Nereza," said the light faerie sternly. "It has become clear to me for some time now that Uriele is more than capable of doing this on her own. Your services are not required."

"This is preposterous! You said yourself the night before we left—not a fortnight ago—that Uriele and I need to be fyora together because we are not strong enough apart!"

"You misunderstood me, as usual. _You_ are not capable of being fyora without the aid of your sister. She, on the other hand, can function by herself perfectly well. It is not wise to put someone in power that must be dependent on another."

"No," said Nereza. "That is not what you said or meant. You said you were pairing us together because we complete each other. 'Apart, you are both inadequate. Together, you would be indestructible.' That is exactly what you said. Forgive me if I fail to see what I might have misunderstood."

Morwen laughed, and stated plainly, "I said no such thing." To the crowd, she said, "It looks as if I made the correct choice. Not only is our beloved Nereza incapable of accepting my decision with grace, but she is also a liar."

"I am no liar!" the dark faerie exclaimed. "Ask anyone in the tribe. They will agree I am an honest faerie. They will attest to my integrity." She looked at her sister. "Ellie, please, help me here."

"Even now you need your younger sister's assistance!" yelled the former fyora.

The crowd was becoming extremely confused and uncomfortable. None wanted to oppose Morwen (whom they considered was still more or less fyora), but they also knew Nereza. They knew she was truthful and humble, unlike her sister, who enjoyed playing pranks and boasting.

The proverbial ball was in Uriele's court, and she didn't know what to do with it. She knew she should come to her sister's aid and face down Morwen together as a force. She knew she ought to instate Nereza as fyora herself, as was now her right to do. She knew this was unfair. And yet… it was terribly enticing. The power that came with the position of fyora was unlike anything else. She would be entirely in her right to command the entire tribe, including her older sister, and they would have to obey without question.

She examined the staff that was now hers. It was beautiful: the color of the sky, long and slender, with a pink-purple orb at the top. Morwen had explained once that it had been passed down to her by her teacher, and her teacher before her, since its creation at the hands of the ancient faeries. Uriele had believed it at once, and feeling it in her hands now as she was, she believed it even more. This was a staff of the ancients, and now it was hers. She understood it was only as powerful as the one wielding it, but as far as she was concerned, she was the most powerful faerie in the world. She felt the staff's spirit thrumming through it, and made up her mind.

"You must fix this, Ellie," implored her sister. "You can make me fyora yourself; you must do this."

"No."

Nereza flinched, completely startled. The rest of the tribe was stunned into silence. Even Morwen seemed taken aback.

"I apologize, Nereza," said Uriele, surprising everyone with the use of her sister's full name. "Morwen has made her decision. She would not have done this without very good reason. As fyora, I will respect this and perform my duties the way I must. You are freed from any further obligation. I accept this burden for myself."

One of the earth faeries fainted. Those near her caught her and tried to bring her to. One of the air faeries cried out, "You will be a miserable fyora without your sister to keep you in check! You have not her reason or wisdom!"

Uriele scowled, deeply offended, and before she realized what she was doing, she flicked her hand and the air faerie was flung aside. "Listen here," she said loudly, sweat beads on her forehead; "I am your fyora now. If anyone takes offense or issue with this, you are free to seek out another tribe." She smiled then, tossing some of her blond hair behind her shoulder. "Besides, you all know me. I am the most powerful faerie here; probably even in the entire world. You ought to be honored."

No one said anything. Even Nereza was unable to speak. She felt only numbness inside.

"As my first motion as fyora," Uriele went on, "I hereby exile Morwen from the Uriela tribe and forbid her from ever returning."

Morwen's face drained of color. "Now wait just one moment—" she began, but the rest of the tribe would never know what she was about to say next, for at that moment, someone yelled from the other end of the settlement.

"Faeries of the Morwena Tribe!" they called. "You are hereby ordered to pack up all your belongings. It is time for you to join the ranks of the Six Kingdoms!"

Distracted from the issue at hand, the faeries began to mutter again among themselves. "Six Kingdoms? What are they?" "Who is she?" "Why is there a large army of faeries with her?"

Uriele moved through the crowd and came forward to see the newcomers. "This is the Uriela tribe now," she declared. "I am the fyora. Who are you and what do you want?"

The faerie, an air faerie, stepped forward. "I am Aeris," she said, "and we are here to claim those of our type. All air faeries are now members of the respectable Air Kingdom. Likewise, we have heard your tribe has four earth types, two light, and one dark. This was very annoying, by the way; most tribes have the good sense to have only one or two types."

"I don't believe I follow you."

"Then let me make it clearer." Two other air faeries came up behind her. "All of you are to come with us, now. The air faeries are to make their new home in the Air Kingdom; meanwhile, we will leave the rest of you with your respective kingdoms. So, as I said, pack your things."

Uriele narrowed her eyes. "You intend to separate my tribe?" she asked. "Under whose authority?"

Aeris smirked. "I had hoped you wouldn't be difficult. This is my final warning: pack your things and come quietly, or we will take you all prisoner. Believe me; it is far easier to do it my way."

"Ha!" Uriele tossed her staff into her other hand and smacked it against the ground, as if to prove a point. "I am afraid you have no idea who you are dealing with."

"Nor do you."

Everything from that moment happened so quickly that hardly any of them understood it. The air faeries seemed endless, and they fought relentlessly. Uriele prepared to turn Aeris into stone, but Morwen, with a bag around her shoulder, came up behind her and knocked her down, stopping the spell. She cast a spell of her own, and Uriele found herself crippled by it; it was an obedience spell, and she hadn't been quick enough to block it. Morwen commanded Uriele then, and they went agreeably with several of the air faeries. Uriele gripped her staff for dear life in one hand, but reached out with another, screaming, "NEZZIE!"

Nereza, holding back several air faeries with her magic, broke her focus at the sound of her sister's screams. She dropped to the ground and managed to roll out of the way of the incoming faeries, then jumped into the air after her sister. Morwen turned round and shot her down with a blast of magic energy, sending her falling to the ground.

"Stop that," she commanded Uriele. "Fly faster."

The fighting was over as suddenly as it had begun. Nereza stopped resisting, coming to the conclusion that her sister was going to be in the Light Kingdom, if that was what it was called, and she would be able to find her there. After the tribe's air and earth faeries had been restrained and were being flown off, Aeris came up to her and scowled.

"You're their darkness faerie," she said coldly. "That's just not natural for darkness faeries to affiliate with other types."

Nereza glared into her eyes, but said nothing.

"Come along, then," said Aeris. "We shall deliver you to the Dark Kingdom. It is not far from here."

"What are these kingdoms?"

"You don't know?" Aeris shook her head. "I suppose you have been moving around more than most. Half a year ago some of the same-type tribes decided to band together to create kingdoms large enough to keep away the wraiths. Your tribe is one of the last that has not been assimilated. Mixed-type tribes like yours put up a resistance, but most tribes were already separated into types. It has not been a difficult thing."

"You're destroying families," Nereza pointed out. "These tribes? They're our families. As a matter of fact, my sister and I are now being separated. She is a light faerie."

Aeris shrugged. "No one is saying there will be no communication between the kingdoms. It depends on the relations. As it is, it may be harder for some than for others."

"Why not merge all the tribes into one kingdom, then? Would that not be the most powerful defense against the wraiths?"

"You don't seem to understand, so I will explain it to you. We faeries do not trust one another, see? I am sure your tribe had enemies. Tell me, of those enemy tribes, what were the predominant types?"

Dark, earth, and fire, Nereza knew; but she said nothing.

"No one wants to be in the same kingdom as their enemies. Since most tribes are same-type anyway, it generally follows that people assume other faeries of the same type as their enemies are also enemies. Trust me; this is much simpler, and far more effective."

Nereza was not convinced, but she nodded nonetheless. She'd already made up her mind to reunite with her traitorous sister and figure out a way to fix all this. "Very well. Take me to this 'Dark Kingdom,' then."

Aeris smiled. "I'm glad you are so agreeable. If only all darkness faeries could be like you."


	7. Part Seven: Of Visions And Nightmares

**PART SEVEN**

* * *

Uriele watched in despair as Nereza fell away from her and she was forced to fly with Morwen away from the tribe until she could no longer see it. They were accompanied by two air faeries who were leading the way. They explained to Morwen when she asked that the Light Kingdom was several days' flight away and was located in a glorious plain by the sea. The Water Kingdom was, as expected, in the middle of the ocean; the Fire Kingdom in the desert; the Earth Kingdom in the northern forests; and the Dark Kingdom in the dark western woods, rather nearby where their tribe had been.

What caught Uriele's attention most was that the Air Kingdom was located on a cloud to the north. She thought over the placement of the kingdoms and couldn't help but notice their similarity to the old stories… the stories she had just told her sister only a week earlier.

_The air faeries kept to the clouds, while the earth faeries made their homes in forest dens, fire faeries in the heart of volcanoes and deserts, the light faeries in the open and sunny fields, the dark faeries in caves and under the ground, and the water faeries in the oceans._

With the exception of the dark faeries, almost all the locations were almost the same. And it made sense, she knew; if the ancient faeries had developed into types because of their locations, lifestyles, and the magic they used, what could possibly be more appropriate?

They eventually made camp for the night, and Morwen cast a barrier to hide against wraiths before Uriele could. Morwen did not bother to warn her about running away, for they both knew she would not. She clutched her staff tightly, and realized that she did not miss her sister.

_Who was she, anyway, to think we could be equals? _she thought bitterly._ And how would we share this? It belongs to me now… It could never accept her as its master._

During her training, Morwen had explained that in order for the staff to accept a new master, it had to have been given freely by its previous one. Otherwise it would not work properly. Well, she would never give it up. Already it felt like a dear friend, and an incredible symbol of her power and status. Though what status she may have in a kingdom with every light faerie in the world, she couldn't say…

She stood up. The obedience spell had worn off during the fly, though she had already accepted that there was nothing she could do but go along. She glanced at the air faeries and Morwen, all of whom were sleeping. She had been given the first watch. She had to laugh at the thought, though she knew they were only sleeping because they knew she wouldn't leave. In a way, that irritated her.

She walked over to where the first air faerie was and lifted a hand. It wouldn't matter if one air faerie kidnapper was turned to stone, would it? She was better than them all anyway, and she would prove it.

She sought inside her the power she had been perfecting in secret for the past year. She had had only leaves and sometimes trees to work with for the most part, but it was all purely experimental, of course. Only recently had she bothered to try to take the spell off and found that she didn't know how. If there was a way, she hadn't figured it out yet.

Suddenly, as she began to cast the spell, dark blue sparks shocked her hand, and spread quickly to the rest of her. It was incredibly painful and, with a cry, she fell to her knees. She dismissed the spell and the feeling of being burned began to fade.

"What in the world?" she muttered to herself.

"What in the world indeed," came a voice behind her. She turned, but it was only Morwen, looming over her.

"Morwen— I—"

"Let us take a walk, Uriele."

She extended a hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Uriele took it. Morwen helped her back on her feet, and they walked through the barrier. Uriele protested, but Morwen cut her off, saying, "Fear not; _you_ don't need the protection."

Uriele frowned, wondering what in the world she could mean by that, but said nothing. The air seemed colder than it had been within the barrier.

"Now, Uriele," began Morwen, "listen to me. I named you fyora so soon because I foresaw this event. While you and your sister were out on your silly little adventure, my scrying bowl began to show a vision, and I looked; and I saw that the tribes were almost all but vanished. We will be safer in the Light Kingdom, Uriele, as will Nereza in the Dark. I do not suggest that you go after her."

"I did not intend to," said Uriele, a little surprised that that was true. "Perhaps some time apart is what we need. She could not accept your decision… Our decision…"

"Well of course not. I betrayed her, and so did you."

Uriele felt as if she had been struck across the face. A single tear slid down her cheek.

"I am so conflicted," she admitted quietly. "I wanted—I still want—the power and the position all to myself. Though I suppose there is no position for me anymore… I am so much better than she at magic; how could we ever be equals? And yet… I am ashamed. She is my sister, after all."

"She is more than your sister," said Morwen. "One day, Uriele, you will know the truth, and understand everything. But now is not the time."

Uriele looked curiously at her former mentor, who stopped walking and turned to face her.

"Do not perform any more of your dark magic, Uriele," she warned. "It will only bring about misfortune."

"My—?"

"You know that of which I speak. That magic which you meant to use on our escorts. Well, do not harm them. Let them take you to the Light Kingdom. I am going to tell you this now and vanish, possibly forever; do not seek me out."

Uriele gripped her staff tighter. "You're going to leave me?" she squeaked. "All by myself?"

"Nereza is all by her own self," Morwen reminded her. "She hasn't a friend in the world anymore."

At the thought of her sister, Uriele lowered her head and let her hair fall in her face. Morwen would have none of it, though, and took the young faerie's chin in her hand and forced it up. They locked eyes.

"I also had a vision," continued Morwen, "that you would become a great queen one day. Rule and protect as you see fit. I have faith in you."

She left no time for Uriele to speak, and drew away suddenly, almost fading into the air, before disappearing completely.

—

When finally she slept, Uriele dreamed vividly of things she did not understand. She saw the silhouette of a faerie, which she reached for; the faerie became purple, and she recognized her as an ancient. The faerie was sad, and Uriele soon realized that it was because she was trapped within a glass bottle. Uriele had heard of these glass bottles—containers on which faerie magic did not work, and from which a faerie could never escape on her own—and had had many nightmares as a child once she had learned of them. She felt a surge of fear at the sight of the bottle, but was relieved that the faerie inside was not herself.

The ancient faerie pressed her hands against the inside of the bottle, and then pounded them against the glass, apparently yelling, though Uriele heard not a sound. The faerie's eyes caught sight of something, and they widened in horror; she pressed herself against the opposite side of the bottle. Uriele tried to look but saw only a shadow of writhing black and purple descending forth.

Suddenly, a large hand took hold of the bottle, and pulled free the cork, releasing the faerie inside. The shadow met to swallow the faerie and the two fell into a crucible. The large hand and its double surrounded the bowl and began to glow with magic.

Inside the crucible, the shadow laughed at the faerie and spoke to it in a language Uriele didn't understand. The faerie angrily screamed her protest and attempted to protect herself, but then the two were stunned and made powerless by the magic of the hands. The scene then faded away.

In its place, a darkness rose up and surrounded Uriele. It asked a question, and its voice sounded like knives scraping together, but Uriele understood it.

_You can give names,_ it said, challengingly. _Can you take them away, fyora?_

Uriele woke with a start, sitting straight up. She was sweating and trembling, and her heart was beating fast. She tried to grasp at the memory of her dream, so as to not forget it, but the harder she grasped, the further it slipped away. She could remember nothing, but was filled with a strange sensation, and plagued by a terrifying idea.

The two air faeries were still asleep beside her. It was not yet dawn, but almost. She saw no sign of Morwen, and then remembered that she had left. A feeling of loneliness descended upon her, but she managed to shake it off.

She had something else to consider.


	8. Part Eight: A Wonderful Puzzle

**PART EIGHT**

* * *

_Ten Years Later_

The young dark faerie hurried along the castle hallways, flying to increase her speed. She had a very important message to deliver to the queen, and was moving as quickly as she could.

The queen was, as usual at this time of day, resting in her lounge room with her advisor. "I was thinking perhaps of 'Ahsla,'" she was musing aloud, "though it feels rather too fiery to me. What do you think?"

"My lady," said the messenger, interrupting the conversation and producing a sloppy curtsy. "There is news from the Light Kingdom. It is urgent."

"Very well, Eyfa," said the queen, not in the least perturbed by the intrusion. "What do they want? Have they accepted our proposal for peace?"

"Not quite," replied the messenger nervously. "You see, the Light Kingdom has recently crowned a new queen."

The advisor was surprised; the queen was interested, and asked, "Have they indeed?"

"Yes, my lady… and it appears that the new queen has decided that your gracious offer of peace is, well…" She wrung her hands.

"Don't fret so, Eyfa, dear. You are not responsible for your messages, remember? Continue."

"It's not that, my lady; I know you are good. However, the new Light Queen is not so certain. She has declared your offer insulting, and that though she hopes her first act as queen will not be an act of war, she may have no choice if we continue to, as it was put, 'promote lies and untruths, which are acts of hostility.'"

The queen smiled. "Fascinating," she said. "The Light Kingdom can have peace with the other five kingdoms, but not with us. Were Queen Endrita still reigning, this would have been dealt with." She thought for a moment, and then laughed. "It sounds like the new queen is quite the headstrong and arrogant little pest, talking so big of war. I would be willing to wager that she has some deep prejudice against dark faeries. What is her name?"

The advisor gazed intensely at the messenger, who answered, "I believe her name was Fyora, if I am not mistaken."

At that, the queen let out another laugh—harder and fuller this time. The messenger pursed her lips quizzically. No one heard the advisor sigh in relief.

"Fyora, is it?" exclaimed the queen, wiping tears from her eyes as her laughter subsided. "She is just as mightily arrogant as I suspected! An alias, I have no doubt; no one would be named so contemptuously."

"Actually, my lady, that appears to be her true name."

The queen's eyes widened. "Indeed? How peculiar. Fyora… Though, to be fair, she must be a wondrous magician indeed to have usurped the Light Queen. Speaking of whom, Eyfa, did you get wind of how she lost her crown to this hotheaded imp?"

Eyfa shook her head. "Only some mention of a duel. Endrita's exact fate is unknown to me; though it is clear she lost."

"I see. So the beast obtained her throne by battle, and has already tasted victory." The queen tapped her chin in thought. "Judging by what I believe to know of her character, she will declare war on us inevitably. Whether it will be tomorrow or next year or in one hundred years remains to be seen… Though I sincerely doubt it will be so late; she seems the impatient type. In the meantime, Nereza," she said, turning to her advisor, "what would you suggest?"

Nereza thought for a moment in silence, then replied, "If war with the Light Kingdom is inevitable, then we must, of course, prepare. It will be important to secure allegiances from the other kingdoms, of course, despite their alliance with the Light Kingdom. I have personal connections in the Fire Kingdom, though I am uncertain if that will be enough to secure their support. I suggest a meeting of ambassadors from all six kingdoms to discuss the matter. Hopefully it will not be as you say, and we can prevent war. I would not wish war with the Light Kingdom."

The queen had been watching her intently, and her eyes were filled with understanding. She nodded and smiled. "As always, you are correct, Nereza," she praised. "Eyfa, please deliver the summons. We shall have it held here in my court, for we have nothing to hide. It shall be set to occur in one moon's full passing from this time."

"Also"—said Nereza quickly, before Eyfa could leave—"did you find…?"

Eyfa shook her head. "I'm sorry." She curtsied, properly this time, and swiftly left.

Nereza sighed. "I may as well not even ask anymore," she murmured.

The queen placed her hand on Nereza's sympathetically. "We will find her someday," she assured her. "Do not lose heart. We faeries live long lives, and in time you will be reunited with your sister."

"But should I even want that? She has clearly made no attempt to find _me,_ so if she is not lost or dead, then she has no excuse. Does she really hate me that much? I have done her no wrong; in fact, it was she who betrayed me. Yet I have made it a priority in my life to find her since we were separated, and I have been utterly without success. Uriele vanished from the world the night she was taken from me."

"I am sorry," said the queen gently. "I wish there were anything more I could do that I haven't already done. My own sister is separate from me, as you know, but even that is not the same."

"If you would only allow me to visit the kingdom myself—"

"You know why I cannot. That is the one thing I cannot do. You are a dark faerie. They have never allowed dark faeries into the Light Kingdom. I myself have never even been. If I sent you there, I would lose my advisor and dear friend. And at a time like this, when the Light Queen has been replaced with an angry and bigoted child who has threatened us with war, it is unthinkable. Perhaps someday, when the tides have changed and we are no longer forced into these silly type-based kingdoms, you will be able to look with your own eyes upon all the light faeries and find hers. But until then, I am afraid the answer must be no."

Nereza sighed again. After a moment, she asked, "What will happen if we go to war?"

The queen shrugged. "I hope it does not come to that," she answered. "I will do whatever I can to prevent that. Hopefully we can come to some agreement at the summons."

"But if it does?" Nereza pressed.

"…Then we will do what we must."

—

The month passed by without event, until it was at last the eve before the meeting. The representatives from the five other kingdoms arrived and were shown to their quarters; as important guests, they would stay in the palace to rest from their journeys. The summons was to be held the next morning in a private hall after breakfast, closed off to the public.

Nereza scanned the faces of the Light Kingdom representatives carefully, but Uriele's face was not among them. Her feelings were mixed regarding this fact, and she was both disappointed and confused. She was sure that Uriele, with her abilities, would have risen in the Light Kingdom to a notable rank, and yet she was absent. Was she not notable enough to be an ambassador? Or were Nereza's fears true all along, and Uriele was not in the Light Kingdom?

Five of the six queens were present: Queens Nuria of the Fire Kingdom, Isithra of the Earth Kingdom, Esen of the Air, Sedna of the Water, and, of course, Sithira of the Dark. They each brought their advisors and several other faeries important to them. Queen Fyora of the Light was notably absent. Her ambassador of the highest rank took her place.

When the time was appropriate, Nereza approached Queen Nuria and said humbly, "My lady, if I may…"

"I know you," said the queen, fire-red eyes widening in surprise. She waved her attendants away, leaving them alone. "You are that sorceress who renamed me."

Nereza blushed. "Yes. I am advisor to Lady Sithira now."

"A wonder you are not the queen," murmured Nuria. Her wings burned as brightly and as warmly as they had the day she first received them.

"Oh, no." Nereza shook her head. "I couldn't. Sithira is a good queen. I am happy where I am."

Nuria's eyes searched her face carefully. "I notice you say nothing of her power," she replied in a quiet voice. "Surely you have more than she. I know you have more than I."

"Power is not the sole thing a queen ought to possess to rule well."

At that, Nuria smiled. "You are wise, too. You would make a good queen indeed. And do not lie to me that you are satisfied with your station. It is loyalty alone that holds your hand."

Nereza averted her gaze. The queen's ideas were false, but also not too far from the truth. While the position of Dark Queen was not one Nereza particularly desired, she still burned with bitterness at the injustice done to her by Uriele and Morwen. "I was to be fyora with my sister," she told her. "I was betrayed by her and our mentor. Uriele became fyora on her own. At that moment the tribe was broken apart. I have not seen her since."

Nuria put a hand on the dark faerie's arm. "She is the other one, is she not? The other Namer who saved my people."

Nereza nodded. "She is missing, as well," she confessed. "That day, she vanished from the world. No one has found a light faerie by the name of Uriele anywhere. I have been searching now for ten years. I thought for certain she might have sought a position of power, even queen, as ambitious and arrogant as she is, and yet… she has done no such thing."

"Curious…" The fire faerie crossed her arms over her chest. "Did she not join the Light Kingdom fyoras?"

"That was the first place I looked once I was able. She was not there."

Nuria frowned for a moment, then replaced it with a wry grin. "I find you and your situation fascinating. Such a wonderful puzzle; such wonderfully puzzling sisters. I greatly look forward to what your futures hold. With as much power as the both of you possess, it is inevitable that extraordinary things are to come."

"I do not know about all that."

She laughed. "You are young. When you learn to see your immortality and time stretch before you like the horizon, you will see as all faeries do."

"I am not so young," said Nereza defensively.

"Younger than most, I would say." Nuria's eyes softened. "I am retiring to my rooms now, for I am weary. But I promise you, I will keep an eye and ear out for your sister."

Though her first impulse was to refuse the offer, Nereza knew she could do no such thing. If there was a chance of finding Uriele and being reunited with her, she would take it. Despite her sister's betrayal, she missed her dearly and wished to see her again. She smiled sadly at Nuria. "Thank you," she said, and they parted ways.


	9. Part Nine: A Meeting Of Hostilities

**PART NINE**

* * *

Nereza entered the meeting hall beside Sithira, not without anxiety. The queen put a gentle hand on her advisor's shoulder and smiled at her. "Fear not," she murmured in Nereza's ear. "I dreamed well last night. I hope it is a good sign." The younger dark faerie smiled back, but she was not wholly reassured.

The table at which they sat was circular, and everyone was on the same level as everyone else. It was Nereza's job to begin the meeting, and so she stood behind her seat and addressed everyone.

"Fellow faeries," she said diplomatically, "my great lady, the queen Sithira, and I humbly thank all of you for accepting our invitation to this summons. Please, seat yourselves, and we may begin."

Sithira hid a grin as she sat. She had recognized her advisor's talents quickly after her arrival to the kingdom. Nereza had been insisting on being allowed into the Dark Fyoras, claiming it as her right, but no display of her abilities won her entry, as she had no fyora staff, and therefore had never become one. Intrigued by this spirited and justice-obsessed faerie, Sithira took her into her own personal staff, and within the year had replaced her advisor with Nereza. The faerie was cautious, practical, and mostly level-headed; a wise faerie despite her years; well suited to thinking rather than to doing. Diplomacy had come naturally to her as well, and her talents in strategy, organization, and reasoning made her born to be an advisor.

And yet…

"The nature of this summons is to address a rather serious warning made by the new Light Queen to the Dark," Nereza began, "in response to our proposal of peace. A threat, if you will."

There was some murmuring, but it was quickly silenced. The Light Kingdom ambassador, Alcinda, said loudly, "Rubbish!"

"If you please," said Nereza, completely unruffled by the outburst, impressing Sithira. "Several moons ago my lady and I composed a peace proposal, which was sent to the now former queen Endrita of the Light Kingdom. We sent this proposal on the grounds of smoothing over any hostility, real or imagined, between the Light and Dark Kingdoms. It is well known that the Light Kingdom has a ban on entry from any dark faeries. There has not been any apparent problem of this nature between the other kingdoms."

"Not so," put in one of the Earth ambassadors. "There has been hostility between the Water Kingdom and the Fire and Earth Kingdoms. They have a ban on entry from any faerie type but theirs to their kingdom."

"It is under_ water,_" said the Water Advisor, Aquaria, in exasperation. "No one who is not of the water can survive there. It is simply infeasible."

"We have no quarrel with the Water Kingdom," put in Queen Nuria.

"Why must we mix types at all?" demanded Alcinda. "We split into six kingdoms for that very reason—so we would not have to have anything more to do with each other."

"That was not _my _intention," Nuria stated plainly.

"That is quite the statement, Alcinda," said Isithra, the Earth Queen. "I was under the impression we created the Six Kingdoms to strengthen our numbers and keep away the wraiths. The fact that we were split into types was a matter of… general convenience, as we were largely already separated while in our tribes."

Aquaria shook her head. "Quarrels between the tribes kept intermixing from occurring. It is just how it happened, and it has been working well, or so I thought. I know there are plenty of those in the Water Kingdom who would rather not comingle with certain less reputable types."

"What are you insinuating?" demanded Isithra sharply, rising in her seat. "I'll have you know I won't tolerate any remarks from a slimy—"

"Returning to the direct matter at hand," said Nereza loudly and firmly, interrupting before the argument became ugly, "the Light Kingdom has crowned a new queen, as I am sure we all are aware. Her name is Fyora, and she has refused Queen Sithira's offer of peace, claiming it is 'insulting' and calling us liars."

The Earth ambassador snorted disdainfully. "What a name! 'Fyora'… Who does she think she is?"

"You mind your tongue, wood-worm," warned Alcinda.

"ENOUGH."

Nereza stood, and suddenly it seemed as if night had fallen, for the entire room had grown dark, and very, very cold. Nereza appeared to have grown into a massive, formidable shadow, and frost kissed the windows. Even Sithira, a dark faerie, felt trepidation in this darkness, which felt unnatural to her. Not for the first time, she wondered about the nature of her beloved advisor's powers.

"This is ludicrous," Nereza boomed, her voice cold as ice and sharp as knives. "Are we not advisors and ambassadors and queens here? The best our kingdoms have to offer? And yet you are squabbling like children! What would your subjects think of this scene, could they but see it?"

_They would see a mighty force to be reckoned with,_ thought Sithira, not without awe.

When finally the darkness receded and Nereza shrunk down in size, a small smile crept onto Queen Nuria's face. It did not escape Sithira's notice.

"And… And what are you?" Alcinda demanded, though the power behind her voice was lost. "You speak to queens with authority, though you've none. What are you that can change shape and call shadows to you like… like a wraith?"

No one addressed the first statement—it was painfully clear to all of them that there was little holding queens to their stations; after all, had not Endrita been so recently usurped? Aside from being the most powerful magical practitioners, what right did any of them have to be queen?

The question at the end, though, hung in the air and in everyone's thoughts, yet none of them dared to speak on the subject. Nereza herself seemed to find their fear superfluous, and declared, "It is not of current concern who or what I am. I am the advisor to Queen Sithira of the Dark Kingdom. That itself is excessive information; we are here to discuss the issue at hand, not my identity. And I resent your allusions, Alcinda. I am no more like a wraith than the rest of you, and I will not forget such a deep insult."

Alcinda was silent, and had gone rather pale.

_Are you truly?_ wondered Sithira, glancing curiously at her advisor and friend. _Who are you, Nereza?_

"Now, Alcinda, if you will," Nereza went on (somewhat mercilessly in Sithira's opinion, but these things had to be done), "kindly explain to the rest of us where your glorious new queen is? Her absence is incredible, considering it is her actions and decisions we are here to discuss."

Before an answer could be given, a bright beam of soft purple light appeared in the middle of the table, startling everyone, including Nereza. The light gave way to a being, clearly a faerie, with a purple dress and dark purple hair, and elegant pink-lavender wings protruding from the back of a deep violet cloak. The faerie's face, but for the mouth, was hidden under its hood. Nereza knew instantly what it was—an ancient faerie, from the stories Uriele had told her long ago.

For a moment they all believed the faerie was truly there, until she moved and the light struck her differently, showing her to be transparent. She flickered. It was merely an illusion.

"My lady," said Alcinda, standing quickly so she could bow.

"I would say 'pardon my absence,' but…" The ancient faerie gazed at the faces at the table, and then gave a little smirk. "I do not see the need."

"Ah, Queen Fyora," said Sithira pleasantly, standing and opening her arms wide. "So good of you to arrive. It is lovely to finally meet you. Please, why don't you sit with the rest of us?" She gestured at the chairs.

Fyora's lips curled in disgust. "I, sit with all of you?" She turned her head, spotting Nereza, who was still standing. Nereza instantly disliked her. "I think not. My visit here shall be brief."

Sithira nodded her head. "Could you, kindly, explain the nature of your message to me? I admit I failed to understand fully how my offer of peace could be considered insulting, or what evidence you have toward me and my kind being in the habit of 'promoting lies and untruths,' as you put it."

"Ah, yes." At that Fyora sighed, and Nereza was puzzled by it. She wished fervently that the queen would show her face so they could read her better. "It is… regrettable," said the queen, "but it is the opinion of my people that dark faeries are evil, and should be destroyed."

A different kind of chill ran through the room now. Alcinda's face became crimson, and she sank in her chair. Sithira felt her jaw set; Nereza became cold all over.

_"You are a dark faerie. Surely you know your kind is inclined toward evil._

Morwen's words, wrenched out of Nereza's memory, burned itself into her thoughts now. She shivered. She feared where this was all going.

Sithira collected herself. "Indeed?"

"It is not _my _opinion, you understand," answered Fyora, though no one believed her. "I have been trying to quell the anger, but the ban is not enough, they say. My people want war. They will not be swayed."

"War is completely unreasonable," Sithira protested. "It will weaken our defenses against the wraiths, as well as attract their attentions. And you are their queen—if you say it is not your opinion, make that known to your people. Stop this madness before it begins."

Fyora laughed. "Wraiths," she muttered. "Ten years of the kingdoms, out of the tribes, and still we talk of _wraiths_."

"Why would we not?" asked Nuria, entering the conversation. "They are our greatest threat. They are why we banded into kingdoms in the first place."

Fyora turned her attention on the Fire Queen, a scowl on her face, but quickly replaced it with a brilliant smile. "Wraiths!" she cried, laughing again. "You all, truly, believe in these old tales? Wraiths are no threat—they do not_ exist!_"

The room exploded at once in an uproar. Sithira had gone white in the face, but stood her ground and protested loudly with the others. All faeries were on their feet, red-faced, shouting angrily, save two: Nereza and Alcinda. The light faerie had sunk further into her chair and was hiding her face under her hand, burning with shame. The dark faerie, on the other hand, was just the opposite—frozen like a block of ice, unable to move or even breathe.

Uriele had always been proud and hotheaded. She had also been good-intentioned and kind. She loved stories and laughter and magic, and valued adventure. She was emotional, impulsive, stubborn, and had a special disinterest in rules. And she had loved Nereza more than anything. They were more than sisters; they were best friends. It was as if they shared a soul. Then she took Nereza into the woods and showed her she had turned a Neopet to stone, and everything changed forever. Their link had weakened then, for Nereza could not accept, could not forgive, her sister's actions and lack of contrition, and circumstances had kept it from ever being repaired. It allowed Uriele to resent her sister, and spend more time with Morwen—whom Nereza was certain was, in the end, the root of the problem—than ever before. It led to Uriele betraying Nereza, and disappearing after they were separated so she might never be found by her hated sister again.

Uriele and Nereza both could give names. Perhaps they could also take them away. The thought was not comforting to Nereza.

In the midst of the chaos ensuing in the hall, Nereza looked up at Fyora and wondered why she hadn't seen it from the very beginning.

"Queen Fyora!" she cried, and again, until she got the queen's attention.

"What is it, dark faerie?" Fyora snapped.

"Why do you wear a hood? What have you to hide? Why won't you show your face?"

Several faeries noticed what was happening and elbowed their neighbors to be silent. Soon they all watched, enraptured. Fyora scoffed.

"Does it matter if I show my face?" she asked. "I have my own right to privacy."

Nereza shook her head. "This is not you," she said emphatically. "You are not this power-mad, troublesome faerie, who abandons those she loves for a mere position. You are—or were—more than that."

Fyora flinched. "What in the world are you blathering on about?" Her voice betrayed her unease.

"Take off your hood," Nereza commanded, "and tell me your name is not Uriele."

Sithira's eyes grew wide and she glanced at her advisor. Nuria, too, watched carefully.

Fyora's lip trembled, but then she shook her head to collect herself. She threw out her arm, gripping tightly onto her fyora staff, which she had not been holding before, which Nereza instantly recognized; and announced, "My name is Fyora… and I hereby declare war on the Dark Kingdom."


	10. Part Ten: Wickedness In Light

**PART TEN**

* * *

Fyora abandoned her illusion, and was suddenly standing alone in her tower. She sank to her knees, and her hands shook terribly as she threw the hood back from her face. Her staff lay fallen beside her.

Nereza had recognized her. She had worked so hard to keep her true identity a secret, and now it was all for naught. Worse yet, her sister had exposed her in front of the entire council—that ridiculous council the Dark Queen had set up. Now all the faerie queens knew her for a fraud.

_Well, that's what you are, aren't you?_ came the treacherous voice of her conscience. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and pressed her hands to her ears, but the thoughts were coming from within. When she opened her eyes again, she looked around desperately for her mirror. It lay against her bureau, and gripped its sides tightly, turning it toward her and looking into her reflection.

She was wild-eyed, with some hair falling into her face. For a moment she looked crazed, but it quickly faded, and she decided she'd imagined it. Even after ten years, she still found it strange to see herself this way—purple everything, even eyes. She knew she looked the part of an ancient faerie, but she couldn't possibly fathom why. She was one of the youngest faeries in the world. The ancients were all either gone, or had become typed.

That night, ten years ago, when Morwen had abandoned her and left her to her nightmares, she had dreamed a terrible idea, and had that morning done what she knew no other creature had ever done before: she gave herself a new name.

The darkness in her nightmare had challenged her and planted the seed of the idea in her mind, and she knew it would never go away. She didn't dare try it on anyone else; that would be too cruel, and if she were unsuccessful, she would be no better than a wraith—than a monster.

_"You can give names._ _Can you take them away, fyora?"_

She had known fully well that the darkness had been addressing her by her title, and yet it seemed to suit her for a name. She acknowledged the gross hubris that would be associated with such a name, but she hadn't cared. If she were truly capable of such a fantastic feat of magical power, then surely she deserved the name.

The process had been both grueling and simple—grueling in that it sapped her of all her energy, and she fell into a sleep that lasted a whole day; simple in that she found the task extremely easy to perform. She had gone inside herself to where the magic of her name resided, and then cut the thread, erasing the name Uriele forever. Quickly, she did like she had done with the grey faeries, and a new thread was created inside her, and Fyora the Faerie was born.

When she woke, she found her entire body transformed. She was no longer a light faerie; no longer had a type. No one knew what she was, except those who happened to know the old tales. She, naturally, knew what she was instantly. As to why she was what she was, she couldn't say.

Regardless, she had been accepted into the Light Kingdom, and joined the Light Fyoras, as was her right. There she stayed for six years, until she could no longer stand the tedium of the whole charade. She served Queen Endrita faithfully, but the queen refused to give her higher status for her superb magical abilities. Naturally, Fyora kept her naming powers and her stone-turning ability to herself; those were not things she planned to ever share. Despite this, she was still clearly more powerful than any of the other fyoras. Since renaming herself, her power had flourished and grown beyond what she could have ever imagined. It was as if her old name was holding back her potential, and this was the real faerie she was born to be all along.

Of course, she had experienced hostility regarding her name. For a long time no one believed it was her true name, but eventually they came around when they realized how immensely powerful she was. Still, she had no friends in the Light Kingdom. She was truly and utterly alone, just as she had left her sister.

_"You're going to leave me? All by myself?"_

"_Nereza is all by her own self. She hasn't a friend in the world anymore."_

Fyora often wondered if that was still true. Nereza was personable, so surely she had made friends in the Dark Kingdom. It also became evident over time that Nereza was pursuing a relentless search to find her. Only Fyora knew what had happened to Uriele, and she did not plan to divulge that secret to anyone, lest it get back to Nereza.

There were a multitude of reasons why she did not want to be found by her sister… but if she were to be completely honest with herself, it was because she was ashamed. How could she face Nereza now, after she had betrayed her, abandoned her, and then renamed herself? So when she discovered, shortly after becoming queen, that the Dark Queen's advisor was her sister, she knew she could never attend the meeting—or, at least, not without a disguise. She had to project herself there from the safety of her tower; otherwise, they would force her to show her face. It was the only way. And yet…

And yet, Nereza _still_ knew it was her! She had let her guard down; she had exposed her disbelief in the wraiths. That alone would have identified her. How could she have been so foolish?

Fyora put her face in her hands and ran them through her hair, trying to breathe properly. Worst of all, not only had she been discovered by her sister, but she had made a complete and utter fool of herself in front of the council by letting her anger and her pride get the best of her. She had, in the presence of the five other faerie queens and their highest officials, declared war on the Dark Kingdom.

War… It was the last thing she wanted. But did she have a choice now? Her anger had consumed her, surely, but if she did not follow through, she would look like an impetuous and emotional child, thoroughly unfit to be a queen. She had to keep her title. She had worked hard for it. She _deserved_ it. She could not let it slip through her fingers, not when she finally had it in her grasp.

"So, war it is, then," she murmured to herself. She stared into her reflection, and realized there were tears in her eyes. She wiped them away and pulled herself together. She had an announcement to make to her people, and she needed to look presentable, not half-mad.

_It does not need to last long,_ she thought. _Just long enough to save face. And anyway, the people would do it themselves._ She wondered if this were the type of 'great queen' Morwen had seen she would be.

As she descended the tower to make her announcement, she wondered also briefly about what she had become, but pushed the question away. A memory from eleven years ago rose to mind to fill its place.

_"Let me tell you something, Uriele," said Morwen, lighting the tent with her magic and slamming shut the thick, heavy tome she had been writing in. "It is true that we feud with fire and earth faeries, and that the common enemy of faeries are the wraiths. But do not be fooled: the true enemies are dark faeries. They are made of shadow and darkness, which are things of wraiths, things of evil. In fact I have suspicions that they are, in fact, faeries born of wraith-stuff."_

"_Nezzie is a dark faerie," said Uriele skeptically. "She is not evil."_

"_No, and thank goodness for that," the elder faerie replied. "I believe that is largely due to being raised by air faeries, however. Had she been raised by her own kind, well… who can say?"_

_Uriele said nothing. This conversation was making her uncomfortable._

"_You see this book, Uriele?" Morwen patted the tome. "Someday it will be yours. The truth is in these pages, and someday you will know."_

"_Know what?" asked Uriele, curiosity blooming within her. "What truth? What's in there?" She reached for it, but Morwen lifted it up and tossed it into the air. It spun quickly and then vanished._

"_You are my great accomplishment in this life, Uriele. You and your sister."_

_Uriele grinned. "Maybe for Nezzie, sure. She works hard and needs your guidance. But I have raw talent."_

"_And an ego too large for this tent," scolded Morwen. "You'd do best to keep that in check. Pride can do great damage if left to its own devices. Do not let it rule you, even for a moment. When you and your sister are fyora, you must be vigilant that your pride does not destroy this tribe."_

_The light faerie scowled. "I love this tribe," she insisted. "I would never do something like that. I am not wicked."_

"_One is not wicked for leading their tribe to ruin if they had the tribe's best interest in mind and made a mistake. One is wicked for letting one's own agenda get in the way of what is good, and what is right."_

Fyora gave her announcement and received a mixed response—cheers from some, silence from others. She gazed at her subjects from her balcony up high, her face saved from humiliation at her folly, and knew she was a fraud. She doubted she would even personally see this war she had just begun. _So, Morwen,_ she thought, _am I wicked now?_

As her subjects hurried to make their preparations, some more eager than others to begin, she murmured to herself, "I must be."


	11. Part Eleven: Forgiveness For A Fool

**PART ELEVEN**

* * *

Everyone had expected the war between the light and dark faeries to be short-lived, but after five years, it was still going strong. Many dark faeries had been locked away in the dungeons of the Light Kingdom, and light faeries in the Dark Kingdom's. In the darkness of the dungeons, the light faeries withered and grew weak, while the dark faeries thrived. Continually stronger and stronger magical barriers had to be cast to keep the dark faeries restrained.

When this issue was brought to Fyora's attention, she considered suggesting keeping the captives in above-ground cells—the sensible thing to do—but instead said nothing. She also did not assist them in casting the protective barriers. She thought it might be interesting to see what would happen once the barriers proved too weak for the dark faeries, but mostly she just wanted to be left alone. If she didn't acknowledge the war, it couldn't hurt her.

In the Dark Kingdom, Nereza was given the title of Chief Strategist for the queen, though her position was essentially still the same. She had a brilliant gift for strategy, and Sithira leaned on her heavily for decision-making. Despite their efforts, however, they knew they were losing. Some blamed Nereza's defensive tactics, claiming that they needed to focus more on attacking the other kingdom and less on protecting their own. But it was Nereza's defense-heavy approach that had kept them even a player for this long.

In the early days of the war, it became quite obvious that the dark faeries didn't stand a chance. There were not nearly as many of them as there were light faeries. The fire faeries had sided with the dark faeries, and the air with the light, with earth and water remaining obstinately neutral, despite Sithira's imploring of the earth faerie queen, Isithra. The air and light faeries were faster and had higher power; the fire and dark faeries were stronger, however, and had better endurance. Nereza had played to that effect and kept the Dark Kingdom from crumbling within the turn of a moon, but she knew it couldn't last. It was simply not probable that they would be able to win by waiting it out.

"I have to go to my sister," she had been telling Sithira for years. "I have to make her see reason. She started this; she can end it, too."

But always Sithira refused. "It is a folly," she insisted. "Any faerie deluded enough to think wraiths do not exist and that we risk nothing by going to war with our own kind is not going to be swayed by the sister she abandoned."

"I have to try. Sithira, you must let me go."

The Dark Faerie Queen looked at her advisor and dear friend sadly. "I will not. I am sorry, Nereza."

One day, Nereza made up her mind to go anyway, explicitly against her queen's orders. _Her word may be Law,_ she thought, _but Law does not reign in war. This has gone on long enough. There must be an end; there must be Justice._

She packed a small bag, donned a black cloak, and, in the dark of the night, swept away from the kingdom. Unbeknownst to her, Sithira watched from the balcony, her purple hair flowing gently in the breeze.

"Be safe, my friend," she murmured to the night.

—

"Queen Fyora, there is… someone here to see you."

Fyora's eyes flicked to the messenger warily, then returned quickly to the papers before her. "Who is it, Aili?" she asked curtly.

"The… Dark Faerie Queen, Your Majesty."

Fyora stood up sharply, knocking over several of the items on her desk, including a glass bauble, which shattered. She winced at the sound, but turned, clutching at the desk behind her.

"Sithira." She tried to sound vicious, but her ferocity had long since left her, and her voice fell flat. The messenger slunk out of the room, leaving the two queens alone.

Fyora cleared her throat and managed to smirk. "You realize now I'll have to imprison you?" she asked sardonically.

"It is not truly I, you fool," said the Dark Queen. "You think I would go in person to my enemy's domain?"

The Light Queen scowled, and looked away, eyes narrowed.

"I've come to tell you that I intend to relinquish my crown to Nereza."

Fyora's heart stopped at the sound of her sister's name, and her knees turned to jelly at Sithira's words. "Oh? And what do I care of that? I know no Nereza." She knew her lie was transparent, and yet she could not help but say it. The war had shut her away in her tower, where she could pretend it was not happening. She had grown jumpy and paranoid, constantly in fear that her sister would come to usurp her, or worse. If she did not acknowledge Nereza— if she did not acknowledge anything, then, maybe—

"Let us, ah, 'cut to the chase,' as they say." Sithira's illusion flickered. "You know I know the truth about you and your sister—how you stole her right to be fyora beside you, then abandoned her, alone, without a friend in the world."

_"She hasn't a friend in the world anymore."_

Fyora squeezed her eyes shut.

"In any event, she would make a far better Queen than I," said the Dark Queen. "She has power beyond understanding. Even my power is as nothing, and I know what _I_ am." She stepped forward, close enough to touch Fyora, and pointed at her chest. "Don't think I don't know what_ you_ are."

"And what am I?" Fyora challenged, though her voice wavered.

Sithira's lips curled into a sneer as she answered, "An abomination."

"An… abomination?" The words were like ghosts on her lips.

"Yes. I was an ancient once. I once looked as you do. But those days are long gone, and the time for ancients is over. Yet you—you are born a Type, a light faerie, and then become an ancient. That is unnatural. _You_ are unnatural."

Fyora looked away again. She didn't know what to say.

"Make amends with your sister," Sithira advised darkly, "release my people, and end this thoughtless war."

She backed away as if to leave, but Fyora, finally finding her voice, stopped her.

"If I am what you say," said the former light faerie, "then what is Nezzie? What is my sister?"

"A queen," was the answer. "A fiercely loyal friend. A powerful faerie. Better than you."

Without another word, she vanished, and Fyora sank to her knees, tears flowing steadily down her cheeks.

—

"Is that true, Your Majesty?" asked Eyfa cautiously. "Will you really abdicate the throne and name Nereza your successor?"

Sithira, back to herself in the Dark Kingdom, nodded once.

"You realize, Majesty, that Nereza will never accept the position? She believes too firmly in rights and the law, and hierarchy. She believes you are the rightful ruler of the Dark Kingdom."

"I realize." Sithira's jaw tightened. "Yet it must be done. She is the rightful ruler… and I believe that if she can reconcile with Fyora, they will unite the Six Kingdoms."

Eyfa gasped. "Unite the Six Kingdoms? Where in the world did you come upon that idea?"

"It is what she has wanted all along." She thought of her own sister, who was not a dark faerie, and from whom she had also been separated. "It is what I, too… have always wanted."

—

Several days later, Nereza arrived in the Light Kingdom. She had managed to journey unnoticed thus far, and intended to remain so. She traveled only at night, slinking in and out of the shadows like a wraith.

The Light Kingdom was on open grassland, and was prowling with scouts and soldiers. It was fairly easy for her to slip past them unnoticed, which made her wonder at the skill of the other dark faeries who had come here and been captured.

She knew from the reports that Fyora was largely absent from the battle, and spent most of her time locked away in her tower. What she was doing in her tower was the subject of much of the common gossip. Nereza knew it was the tallest tower in the kingdom, protruding from one of the palace wings, and found it without much difficulty.

Like a shadow, she entered and ascended the tower, the guards seeing nothing, hearing nothing. _I have grown more powerful over these years,_ noted Nereza,_ yet I couldn't say how._

When she reached the top, she opened the door with ease, locks meaning nothing to her. She thought she had prepared herself for what lay within, but she was mistaken.

Fyora—_no; Uriele, _she reminded herself—was sitting on the floor, shrunk against a cupboard. The room was in disarray and full of magical items strange and wondrous. Her hair was wild and unkempt, and her purple dress was frayed at the hems. In her hand, she gripped her fyora staff like her life depended on it.

The once-inseparable sisters locked eyes for the first time in over ten years.

"Nezzie," said the faerie Fyora, who looked nothing like Uriele, and yet it could be no one else in the world. Her throat closed and choked on the word, as sudden emotion swept through her and tears filled her eyes.

"Nezzie," she said again. "Nezzie… forgive me. I have been a fool. I know that now. Please… help me."

At first, the dark faerie did nothing. Then, in an instant, the door was closed behind her, and she had flown across the room to her sister's side, where they held each other desperately. Uriele sobbed into her sister's shoulder, but Nereza's eyes were dry.

"Forgive me, forgive me… forgive me…" said Uriele over and over.

Nereza said nothing all the while, but closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the cupboard. She was finally reunited with her sister, after all this time. And, astonishingly, Uriele wanted forgiveness. As the once-light faerie broke down her walls and opened herself to her sister's love, the dark faerie felt only hollowness, and knew she had no love to give.


	12. Part Twelve: Prayers For Peace

**PART TWELVE**

* * *

"Ellie."

Fyora stiffened. "My name is not Uriele any longer," she murmured. She had stopped crying by now, and they were seated across from each other on the floor. Fyora had brewed tea for them both, but so far neither of them had touched their cups.

"I did not call you Uriele," replied Nereza, a little more sharply than she had intended.

"Well, my name isn't 'Ellie,' then, either," Fyora retorted. "I am different now. I am better this way. This is who I truly am."

Nereza's eyes took in the sight once more, of her sister's purple-pink hair and eyes, and how eerily well they matched the orb of the staff lying across Fyora's lap. She hadn't let go of it, even while they had embraced and while she had made tea.

"I suppose it suits you," said Nereza stiffly.

There was a strained silence, and then finally it became too much. "What gave you the right to do this?" demanded the dark faerie. Her voice was raised in passion.

Fyora bristled defensively, though she was more than a little afraid. "The right to do _what_?"

"Everything! Accepting yourself as fyora without me, leaving me to an unknown fate, usurping the Light Queen, causing a _senseless_ war, and, above all, _changing your name to Fyora._"

"There is nothing wrong with my name change," declared Fyora. "It suits me."

"The hubris!" cried Nereza vehemently. "You betrayed me. This is an insult too far. You and I were supposed to be fyora together, and now that is your name? How much clearer could your message be, Uriele?"

Fyora's eyes narrowed. "My message? _What_ message?"

"Your hatred for me."

Fyora was visibly startled, and in so loosened the grip on her staff. Nereza swiped it from her in the blink of an eye, and was on her feet. She had somehow grown larger, and her shadow seemed to fill the entire room, which Fyora noted was suddenly colder.

"This should have been ours!" boomed the voice, sharp as knives and cold as ice. "Our duty, and our life. Together, as one. You betrayed me, and you hate me. You are no sister of mine."

As much as Fyora willed herself to anger, she could not be, so overwhelmed was she by fear. "Wha… what are you, N-Nezzie?"

Nereza's red eyes blazed in the darkness. "I am your sister," said the shadow. "I am your twin. We are family. There is no stronger bond. Yet you have chosen to sever that bond, and it is the highest betrayal."

"I admit that I betrayed you!" cried the Light Queen, tears streaming down her face. "I admit that I am arrogant, and that I believe myself to be better than you. I admit this! But I beg your forgiveness. I need your help, and so I beg of you, forgive me!"

"You desire my forgiveness at this time only because it will benefit you. That is not true repentance. You seek my help? You wish for my mercy? You have done me a great injustice. Why should I help you, Betrayer?"

Fyora looked upon her sister imploringly. "I want to end the war, but I don't know how. Don't forgive me, then, if you shan't. But help me to help my people—our people."

Hesitation flashed in Nereza's eyes, which Fyora did not miss. She went on:

"You want justice for my betrayal, and I understand that. I do not hate you, Nereza; I've never hated you. Don't you remember how I screamed your name when Morwen took me away from you? I may have stolen the staff, stolen the position, and shunned you all these years… but I see clearly now. My mistakes have been laid before me, and I see myself for the fool I am. Our people are suffering… the world is suffering… and you and I, together, have the power to fix this… to fix the mess that I made."

She could swear Nereza was becoming smaller. Already it felt much warmer.

"I don't know if it will truly be justice for you… but if you and I were to unite the Six Kingdoms… and rule together, both of us, as Queens… why, we could rid the world of wraiths and bring about an age of prosperity. We could make the world a safer place, where families need no longer be torn apart, nor terrorized by the shadows that hunt us."

Her own words surprised her, but Fyora knew, deep inside, that this was what needed to be done. She did not know if she truly felt sorry for betraying her sister; sometimes she did, and sometimes she didn't. But she did know that she was tired of feeling afraid and like she was going insane. She did not enjoy feeling like she was doing harm. Honestly, she didn't know how much she knew of herself.

But seeing Nereza come down to size, the shadows fading and the temperatures rising, for the first time in her life, Fyora believed in wraiths. And the faeries needed to band together to defeat them once and for all. The wraiths had been little trouble in the years past, but reports had come in of their presence as the war raged on. The faeries' magic was strongest in numbers, it seemed, yet discord and hate seemed to empower them despite it. Before now, she had disregarded all reports as lies. But now… she could deny it no longer.

As Nereza became herself again and asked, eyes wide with hope, in a voice that could almost be described as meek, "Do… you mean that?" Fyora realized with a knot in her stomach what she had gotten herself into. Still, she set her jaw and nodded once, sealing her fate. She would unite the Six Kingdoms and rule with Nereza, for all of time.

_And if you betray her a second time… what will become of you?_ she asked herself, a single bead of sweat sliding down her cheek._ What will become of her?_

—

It was odd, Sithira thought, how readily Nereza accepted Fyora's proposal. She did not know if Fyora had let her sister enter the Light Kingdom and subsequently her tower, or if that had been something of Nereza's own doing. She suspected it was probably a bit of both. The ease with which this all settled together, however, left Sithira feeling both apprehensive and uneasy.

Still, when Fyora made her declaration, and Nereza had returned to the Dark Kingdom with the news of the war's end, Sithira couldn't help but feel relieved. It was over, and she could be with her own sister again. She had tired of queendom, and had suggested to Nereza, only half in jest, that they switch places so that Sithira was now _her_ advisor. Nereza had taken the suggestion very seriously, and apologized profusely for her usurpation and blatant betrayal of Sithira's trust. The former Dark Queen told her there was no wrong done, as she had meant for Nereza to take the dark throne upon return anyway. Even so, Sithira could tell that Nereza was not wholly bothered by her supposed 'usurpation and betrayal.' She did not know how to feel about that.

"It will not be easy," she warned Nereza. "Uniting the kingdoms, I mean. There will be as much opposition as there will be support."

"I am aware," Nereza replied. "Had we done this before the war, it would have been far less trouble; now, there is bad blood between the types, and even within. There will be much to do… but it must be done, and so it shall."

—

Morwen looked on ruefully in her bowl of rose petals. This was not how it was supposed to be, she knew. This was not how it would turn out in the end. The types could band together, certainly… but not with dark faeries. It could never be done with dark faeries. Certainly no one would accept a dark faerie as their queen, were they not dark faeries as well. She opened her large, faded tome forcefully, and the thud it made resounded throughout her dwelling.

She was disgusted with her creations, and with herself for failing with them so. How could she have let things get so out of hand? She had no idea that when she stole the ancient faerie's soul and fused it in a crucible with a wraith that she would make two people so separate from each other. She had never intended for there to be two people at all. The result was supposed to be one faerie, the most powerful faerie of all, created by the brightest light and the darkest shadow. But it had not gone as planned, and she could not leave her work to waste, so she dumped the pair where she knew that soft-hearted fool Demelza would find them. The twin sisters never even knew the air faerie was not their mother; that they had no mother.

All was not for naught, however. A bit of the ancient survived in Nereza, who could give names, and a bit of the wraith in Uriele, who could take them away. They would become the most powerful faeries in the world.

Uriele, she knew, would succeed in her plans and become the Queen of Faeries… but what would become of Nereza? Morwen had seen the future, but had hardly needed to; she knew the sisters would find that there was not room enough for them both at the top. One of them would fall, and it would not be Fyora. Not while Morwen had anything to say about it. She would die before letting a dark wraith-faerie ruin everything.

As the old, wicked light faerie scribbled away in her tome, the rain and darkness began to against her shelter, as if with a vengeance.

And far away, in a wood long abandoned by the faeries, stood the Scorchio Uriele had turned to stone once upon a time. It was weather-worn, chipped in places, and covered in foliage, but its look of horror and movement to run away remained. And there it would stand, for centuries to come, serving as a reminder of the day that Uriele and Nereza had become forever separate.

With the light on the horizon, and a new dawn quickly approaching, the two sisters began their plans to set the world in motion. There would be a new age, and they would reign together, in a world free of the wraiths and their evil. Yet all was not at peace on this misty morn, this day of history's beginning.

A fell wind was blowing.

**The End.**


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